


Albus Potter and the Revival of the Gem

by flummoxed12



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:06:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flummoxed12/pseuds/flummoxed12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a summer since the fateful Time Turner Incident of '20. Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy have spent three months apart, and when they finally meet again, something is different. Amidst a surge of dark magic that has both their Ministry-oriented families drenched with worry, the two boys find it difficult to navigate Hogwarts. As clues begin to pop up around the castle, they find themselves immersed in yet another adventure, and forced to deal with feelings they had not anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Times Have Changed

Albus Severus Potter had been to King's Cross Station more times than he cared to remember, but this time, it felt different. 

Nothing had changed outwardly. The hordes of strangely dressed wizards and witches mingled with the disgruntled crowds of Muggles, all making their way through the bustling station. The Potters, dressed entirely in seemingly foreign robes, got the same stares and glares as always. Albus felt a familiar electric zap of energy as he passed through the barrier and into Platform 9 and 3/4, and the steam-filled area was just as jam-packed with people as every other year. Their faces were a mix of all of Albus' current emotions as he stared at the freshly polished Hogwarts Express. Everything was exactly as it had always been. If it wasn't his surroundings that had changed, Albus figured with a sigh, it must have been him.

The events of the year before had never escaped his mind. He still woke screaming from nightmares of watching his grandparents die at the hands of the Dark Lord. And of watching the same man's daughter torture his best friend. It was Harry who comforted his youngest son each night the tangled sheets ripped him from sleep. The irony of the situation was not lost on Albus. That his father, who had watched his parents die three times now, had to hold his shaking son through memories of the same event. Neither speaking. Neither moving. Simply sitting, breathing in familiarity and warmth. Albus had never truly appreciated the depths of his father's ongoing strength until those nights began.

"Got your trunk, Al?"

Albus blinked, looking up at his mother. She smiled warmly at him, lifting his face with her pointer finger.

"Chin up, love," she winked with a grin, "Minerva's had a chat with the trolley witch. I promise you won't even HEAR her." 

"It's not that," said Albus, though he had to admit, the knowledge that the trolley witch and her talons wouldn't be anywhere near him did set him a little at ease. "It just feels strange. Going to school. Fifth year, O.W.L.s. Like a normal person. After everything that happened last year."

"After everything that happened last year, and in 1981, and in 1994, and in s-several absolutely lovely parallel universes," a voice reminded from behind the pair. 

Albus spun around, his face splitting into a grin. There, trunk and quivering owl cage in hand, stood his pale-headed best friend; Scorpius Malfoy. 

They dropped their bags at the same time, Scorpius's new owl giving a hoot of protest. Albus strode forward, much quicker than his (now taller) counterpart, and met him in the middle. Almost without realizing what he was doing, Albus had wrapped his arms around his best friend and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Ah, s-so we're keeping the hugging thing, then?" Scorpius said, his voice muffled by Albus's shoulder. His tone was joking as he gripped Albus just as tightly, a wide-set grin splitting across his long face.

"You didn't tell me you got an owl," Albus said, releasing Scorpius after a few moments. He cleared his throat, looking down at the gorgeous tawny creature in the cage. It's amber eyes followed him menacingly. It hooted again, sounding almost superior.

"I don't like it," Albus said finally.

"You don't like 'her'," corrected Scorpius, "and she does have a name, Al."

"Which is?"

"Hedwig the Second," he announced proudly. 

Albus stared at him. "You didn't." 

"Of course I didn't, you massive idiot. " Scorpius rolled his pale blue eyes and chuckled, pulling his trunk along as they moved back toward the train. "Her name is Alice. You could have some faith in me, you know." Albus grinned again as they neared where his parents stood by a pillar. This. This was what had been missing over the last few months. The familiar way they spoke to each other and the effortless way they could pull jokes out of thin air had come back to him just as simple as ever. Like riding a broom.

Ahead, Albus could see his parents, along with Hermione and Ron, were chatting quietly to a tall figure dressed entirely in black. Al had just enough time to see a tuft of blonde sticking out of a ponytail before he heard the voice of none other than Draco Malfoy. 

"--then surely we must contact as many of them as we can. Better to narrow it down early, but I suppose..." Draco trailed off as he caught sight of the two boys approaching slowly.

"But I suppose we can discuss this later," Harry said firmly, also noticing the nearby prying ears of his nosiest son and his partner in crime. He ruffled Albus’ hair endearingly as the whistle blew from the front of the train.

“Already!?” Ginny shrieked, “where’s Lily?”

“Here, Mum,” Lily rolled her eyes from her stance right next to her mother. Ginny softened a tad, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s head, and then to James, and finally to Albus. She leaned very close to his ear.

“Be good,” she whispered, “no more trouble this year, alright? Stay safe. We love you.” She pulled away, moving to straighten Lily’s tie as Harry and Ron loaded the children’s trunks into the cargo hold of the train.

Albus turned to grab the sleeve of his friend, and saw him quite awkwardly wrapped in a hug with his father. He stifled a laugh as Scorpius uncomfortably wriggled his way out and heartily shook Draco’s hand. The pair shared a quiet moment, a small but powerful family of two. Albus smiled as Scorpius climbed onto the train behind him and they set off in search of a compartment.

Lily boarded after them, readjusting her tie and linking arms with Rose as they went off in search of the other Gryffindor girls. Albus’ cousin had lost her signature pigtails over the summer, in favour of a tightly knotted braid. Ron thought it made her look rather severe, and had made several jokes at the expense of both his daughter, and Professor McGonagall. Hermione hadn’t thought it very funny. James hadn’t been able to stop laughing.

On the platform, the Potters, Granger-Weasleys, and the last remaining Malfoy adult stood and watched the train pull away. They felt an underlying sense of unease at the thought of sending their children away again. Nearly all of them were Ministry employees, and all had at least some knowledge of the brewing trouble coming at them from everywhere. Of course, after the events of the year before, everything was much stricter. Much safer. There was really nothing to be feared, especially not within the walls of the castle. But as the Hogwarts Express chugged off on its journey, the unlikely group of five were connected by one very human emotion. Worry.

~

Scorpius wound a licorice wand around his finger and sat down heavily on the plush green seat. His stomach hurt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed this much.

Albus, still with a chuckle on his lips, was stretched out on the bench across from Scorpius. He tossed a pepper imp into his mouth and chewed, wincing at the sharp mint taste. The setting sun cast a shadow across the left side of his face, the other half light up in bright orange and gold. Scorpius looked away, out the window where a hint of dark blue was beginning to tinge the magnificent sunset.

“We must be almost there, then,” Scorpius said, peering further out the window, “we usually arrive just after sunset.”

“God I hope so,” Albus grumbled, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled black hair. “I can’t stand being stuck on this stupid tiny train for hours.”

“Well it’s not as if school is paradise in comparison,” Scorpius muttered under his breath. One would think saving the entire known universe from the Dark Lord and his daughter would be enough to stop rumors and hatred. If one thought that, however, one would be wrong.

It had gotten better, though. Scorpius and Albus had made a couple more friends in the last few days of school the year before. Mainly they were Slytherins, but occasionally a gaggle of other students would wave as they passed in the halls or on the staircases.

Despite the abuse he’d faced over most of his years at Hogwarts, Scorpius found it relatively easy to be kind to people. Forgive and forget. That was what his mother had always said.

He swallowed the lump growing in his throat and shoved another licorice wand into his mouth. His father had packed a variety of sweets in his bag, simply because he didn’t want Scorpius going anywhere near the trolley lady. This was something they both agreed on.

“I’ve been thinking—” Albus said suddenly, looking at Scorpius from under his lashes.

Before he could finish his sentence, the compartment door banged open.

Jamie Finch-Fletchley strode in, his chest puffed out like an annoyingly arrogant owl. The top button of his shirt was open to expose the sparse patch of chest hair he had managed to grow. His Gryffindor tie was wrapped around his head like a bandana, and frankly, he looked like a pompous red and gold toad.

“Just who I was looking for,” he said wickedly, “Not-So-Potter and the son of the Dark Lord!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Scorpius saw Albus flinch. Both of them had harboured a secret hope that maybe, just maybe, things would be different this year. Maybe after they proved who the real child of Voldemort was, the rumours would stop. Maybe people would start seeing Albus as worthy of his last name, when really he had been all along.

“Spend a lot of time with your father this summer, Potter? Or is he still pretending his disappointment of a son doesn’t exist?”

Albus was silent. A muscle in his jaw tightened and he swallowed heavily.

“And you, Malfoy? Continuing your legacy as a tarnish on the family tree?” Jamie smirked, twirling his wand in his fingertips.

Scorpius was entirely prepared to spit out something nasty—though he knew it probably wouldn’t make it all the way out of his mouth—when Jamie’s wand flew out of his hand and hit him in square in the forehead.

"Ow!” Jamie stumbled backward, his hands over his face, hitting his abnormally large head against the compartment door. The door in question flew open, and in strode Pandora Scamander, robes pressed, nose in the air, and wand held high. She sneered at Jamie and pointed her wand toward him.

“Out,” she said firmly.

He complied immediately, hurling himself as fast as he could into the corridor and away from his fellow Gryffindor.

Pandora, though the daughter of the rather strange Luna Lovegood and her husband, the quiet grandson of Newt Scamander, was probably the most popular girl at Hogwarts. She was loud, genuine, confident, and vastly intelligent. It was a wonder she hadn’t been Sorted into Ravenclaw. But perhaps, Scorpius thought, she was a tad too boisterously imposing to belong there. In fact, she had been one of the first people to warmly welcome Albus and Scorpius upon their return to school after (literally) saving the world.

Now, she smiled at the two boys with a kind, familiar glint in her cornflower blue eyes. Scorpius found himself thinking she had gotten rather pretty over the course of the summer, and saw plainly on Albus’ face that he thought the same. Something shifted in his gut.

“Massive git, that one,” Pandora rolled her eyes, “let me know if he gives you any more trouble. Can’t believe I ever dated him.” She winked and disappeared off down the aisle, hollering a final “bye boys!”.

Albus reached over and shut the compartment door behind her. He leaned back in his seat, heaving a great sigh and reaching up to fiddle with a section of his fringe. This was a nervous habit Scorpius had observed many times over the years, mainly manifesting itself around final exams. He watched as Albus turned his eyes to the window, where the British countryside was blurrily whipping by.

“Hey,” Scorpius kicked his friend lightly in the shin, “Flinch-Fletchley’s an idiot, I’ll bet he doesn’t even understand half the words coming out of his mouth.”

Albus laughed under his breath, “s’not that,” he muttered, though he kept the grin on his face. Scorpius rolled his eyes.

“What could it possibly be then?”

“It’s Pandora,” Albus said quietly, still not meeting Scorpius’ eye, “she, um, well…she’s quite confident, that girl. And, er, over the summer, we had her and her family round for dinner, and…”

“Spit it out, Potter,” Scorpius chuckled.

“She kissed me.”

It was silent, all of a sudden. Scorpius cocked his head, something again moving in the pit of his stomach. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, not exactly sure of what to say. Many things had been difficult for Scorpius to say in his life, but nothing had frozen his brain quite like this. He was a quick thinker. Thoughts were never lost in his mind.

“I don’t think it’ll go anywhere,” said Albus quickly, “I mean, she hasn’t mentioned it since. I don’t even think I’d want it to go anywhere but…well I just thought I’d tell you.”

“Of course,” Scorpius breathed finally, “well done, mate. She’s only the most sought-after girl in the whole school. L-lucky boy!”

Albus visibly seemed to relax. The creases in his face smoothed out, and he broke into the wide, mischievous Potter grin Scorpius knew so well.

“It was absolutely _mad,_ ” he said, his words tripping over each other, “one minute I’m showing her my chocolate frog cards and the next she’s _snogging_  me!”

The play-by-play rendition of a kiss that couldn’t have lasted more than ten seconds took over the rest of the train ride, Albus’ face all lit up like a Christmas tree. Scorpius dutifully played out his role as ‘best friend’ and listened with rapt attention, but all the while the same feeling in his gut persisted. Jealousy is what it had to be. Hadn’t he just thought Pandora was pretty? And there was no other explanation.

Still, it nagged in the back of his mind all through dinner. Even when they all retired for the evening, the conversation played over and over in his mind. And so, with the sound of Albus snoring in his ear, Scorpius gazed out the window and felt almost no different than he had on that first day on the train. Eleven, scared, and wishing someone would be kind enough to be his friend.


	2. New & Improved

Mornings, Albus realized groggily as he stumbled from the warmth of his bed, were routinely the worse part of any day.

They had barely been back at school for a fortnight, and Scorpius was already top of the class in, well, every class. Albus, on the other hand, struggled to get up in the morning, and was anticipating the next few months with steadily growing dread. Professor Slughorn, head of Slytherin house, had already approached him a few times with concern at his marks. It wasn’t that they were terrible, per se. Quite simply, it was just that “the professor was fond of both the Potter parents, and wanted to make sure their son wasn’t falling behind”. Typical. This never happened to James or Lily. 

“Ready, Potter?” 

Albus blinked. He set his toothbrush down on the marble counter and sighed, eyeing his ever messy hair. Why bother? It wasn’t as if he had anyone to impress.

Emerging from the bathroom, he was greeted by the sight of Jack Burke, another one of his roommates. Jack, the star seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, was vastly more popular than Albus. But by some stroke of godly luck, he seemed to have taken a liking to him. 

A quick scan of the dormitory turned up no signs of Scorpius. Figuring he was off somewhere practicing charms or transfiguring toads, Albus set off to breakfast with Jack. 

“We’re going to have a tough time beating your brother this year, Al,” said Jack as they walked down the stone passageway, “we lost a lot of players, and we’ve never faced Gryffindor with anything less than a full, highly trained team.” 

“In the five years you’ve known me, Jack, have I ever shown the slightest interest in Quidditch?” Albus remarked, rolling his eyes. 

“I just thought we could talk about something other than Pandora Scamander for once.” Jack winked, darting out of reach of Albus’s shove and laughing as he turned bright red. “‘Oh, Jack, today she looked at me! It wasn’t a normal look either, it lasted a full THREE SECONDS! What do you reckon that means?’” Albus flushed again as Jack took off down the corridor, cackling like a madman. 

Maybe he had been talking about Pandora too much. But it wasn’t his fault! Every time he caught sight of her he felt a flutter in his stomach. Like a butterfly taking a leap and flapping its wings in circles all around his gut. And it wasn’t as if he could talk to Scorpius about it. His friend would go quiet every time Albus brought it up in the limited time they spent together. Still, though. If it bothered Jack that much, perhaps it wasn’t worth talking about at all. 

As Albus entered the Great Hall, he caught sight of a familiar blond head at the Slytherin table. Despite himself, he smiled. In between all his friend’s high-level courses and out-of-timetable responsibilities, he rarely saw Scorpius except for when their heads were simultaneously flopping onto pillows. Too tired to talk. 

“Good morning,” Scorpius said cheerily as Albus took his seat across from him.

“Is it, though?” Jack said, reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice.

“Pardon me,” Scorpius drawled sarcastically, “rubbish morning. The sky is grey and life is awful. Bah humbug.” 

Albus snorted into his scrambled eggs. Jack rolled his eyes and began piling sausages into a stack on his plate.

It was, in truth, a lovely morning. The sun shone through the enchanted ceiling of the hall, bathing the whole place in a vibrant golden light. Owls swooped overhead, dropping packages and envelopes on the plates of excitedly chattering students. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen, and a cool autumn-is-nearing breeze drifted in through the open windows. The prospect of being stuck in a history of magic lesson on a day like this left a sour taste in Albus’s mouth. 

“’Morning, boys!” 

Nearly jumping out of his seat, Albus glanced up to see Pandora hovering over them, one hand resting daintily on Jack’s shoulder. Her excessively blonde hair was swept up into an intricate braid, and a small smile sat gently on her face. With the sun giving her a natural backlight, she almost looked like an angel surrounded by a brilliantly golden halo.

“Hi, Pandora,” squeaked Albus, silently cursing himself for the way his voice cracked. 

“Al,” she nodded, “any of you fancy a stroll?” A mischievous glint manifested itself in her eye, now giving her the appearance of an impish fairy. An impish fairy that just so happened to be surrounded by a halo. 

Scorpius cleared his throat, and Albus shook himself slightly. He had almost forgotten anyone else was sitting at the table with him. He swallowed whatever he had been about to say and looked for guidance in his friend’s face.

“We have class in ten minutes,” Scorpius said stonily, his eyes pitching daggers across the table.

“I doubt Binns’ll notice we’re missing,” scoffed Pandora, “he never teaches anything interesting anyway.”

“Are you suggesting we bunk off class for a ‘walk about the garden’.” Scorpius asked, his face a carved-out mask. 

She winked, “it really is quite the garden”

“I’ll go with you!” Albus’s voice broke off into something nearing a screech at the end of his sentence. Pandora’s eyes shifted toward him, her face lighting up.

“Perfect,” she beamed, “I’ll meet you by the lake.”

And with a twirl of her robes, she set off back toward the Gryffindor table. Albus watched her go with his mouth hanging open, astonished at what he’d just done. And now…now they were going on a walk! Together! Just the two of them!

“If y-you don’t close your mouth soon, Albus, dust will start collecting inside of it,” grumbled Scorpius. He took a large bite out of his toast and stood from the table abruptly. “I’ll be off then,” he said shortly, “can’t be late for class.” He strode away, the light bouncing off his white-gold head. 

Albus looked to Jack, who was clearing his plate as thoroughly as possible. The other boy glanced up at him, a broad smile playing across his face.

“I’ve got potions,” he chuckled, “have fun, Al! And whatever you do, don’t freeze up!” He ducked another swat from Albus and loped away, his plate disappearing into thin air.

His friends scattered to the winds, Albus rose as well. He exited the hall with a strange feeling itching at the back of his head, something he couldn’t quite place. Dismissing it as nerves for his upcoming encounter, he hurried off down the corridor and towards the lake. This had been a very good start to his morning.

~

Professor Binns’s incessant droning provided the perfect backdrop for Scorpius’s thoughts to run amok inside his head. Quietly, at the back of the room next to Albus’s empty desk, he seethed. 

He couldn’t believe it. How could this have even happened? One moment he was enjoying a sunny breakfast with his friends, and the next thing he knew Albus was roped into a scheme to skip class and frolic with some girl by the lake! This was not the boy he knew. This was not the boy who had stayed for his sweets.

His eyes fixed on the empty chair, Scorpius played the scene over and over in his head. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what bothered him about it so much, but for some reason it almost felt worse than Delphi. And, for god’s sakes, she’d ended up being the DAUGHTER OF THE DARK LORD! 

It wasn’t as if Pandora was dangerous. That wasn’t the feeling he was getting. He knew when Albus was in trouble. Something about her being her and Albus being Albus just seemed to tick him off ever so slightly.

“Mr. Malfoy,” the ghostly professor chimed in, “please inform the class of what the International Statue of Secrecy entails, and in what year it was signed.”

“The Statue of Secrecy decrees that no Muggle ever be intentionally or unintentionally informed about the existence of magic without the consent of the Ministry,” Scorpius said, without missing a beat. “After it’s signing in 1689, many wizarding families grouped together and formed small communities of their own, leading to settlements such as Godric’s Hollow that we know today.” He inhaled, listening to the grumbles of students around him. As Professor Binns continued, he was all too aware of the annoyed glances and whispers of “know-it-all” shot toward him by his classmates. Whatever. He was used to it by now. Ducking his head, he grabbed a quill and began scrawling answers on his page. Ignore them. That’s what he always did.

~

The rest of the day passed relatively uneventfully. All of his classes being advanced, Scorpius shared only history of magic with his best friend. It wasn’t until dinner rolled around that he caught sight of Albus, his cheeks pink and his bright green eyes shining.

“Oh, finally,” he groaned as Scorpius silently took a seat, “bloody well took your time, didn’t you?”

“Poor bastard has to tell us something,” Jack grinned, his eyes twinkling. Knowing full well Albus’s news would have something to do with the ever lovely Pandora Scamander, Scorpius braced himself. 

“Oh yes,” Albus’s eyes glinted in the candlelight and he leaned further in toward the other two boys, “I really, really do.”

“Always a flare for the dramatic,” Scorpius mumbled under his breath, earning a sharp kick under the table from his friend’s boot.

“There we were, walking along the bank of the lake,” began Albus, “just us two, having a lovely chat about transfiguration—”

“You hate transfiguration,” interrupted Scorpius abruptly. Albus rolled his eyes, barely pausing for a moment, and continued on in his story. 

“—and all of a sudden, she stops,” he leaned closer, anticipation mingling with mischief on the tip of his tongue, “and she says, ‘Al, we’ve been walking for nearly fifteen minutes. At what point where you planning on asking me out?’” He stopped, sitting back in his chair and pausing for dramatic effect. 

Jack snorted and Scorpius rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I’m bloody terrified at this point, but I stay calm—” at this, both Scorpius and Jack stifled a chuckle, knowing full well that Albus had stuttered his way through the encounter, “—and I say, ‘well, would you like to go out with me?’ and she leans forward, really close to my ear and goes and whispers, ‘sure’. ‘Sure’! Just like that! And then she’s walking off back toward the castle!” 

His face, beaming and alive with excitement, brought a nagging guilty feeling into Scorpius’s chest. Albus was happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time, and who was he to say that his best friend wasn’t allowed to be happy? Perhaps he should give this vendetta a rest. Pause to be happy that the people around him were happy, even if he wasn’t. 

And so, with a heavy feeling in his limbs, Scorpius plastered a grin onto his face and clapped his blushing best friend on the back. He congratulated him, and continued to listen politely until the subject was changed to whether or not Jack would ask Eloise Doyle, the lead Slytherin chaser, to have a butterbeer with him. Laughing with his friends brought a sense of familiarity he hadn’t felt in weeks back, and soon he found that his smile was real. 

Jack left about halfway through the meal to talk Quidditch with some of his more…athletically capable friends, leaving Scorpius and Albus by themselves at the end of the table. 

“So,” said Albus, watching a self-stirring spoon lazily spin in his tea, “now that we’re done talking about me. How’re you?” 

Scorpius paused for a moment, weighing his options. The truth was, he felt like shit. His classes were boring and lonely and he rarely had time to do the things he wanted to anymore. But the last thing he wanted to do was burden Albus with anything else, or stop him being happy with Pandora. For what felt like the hundredth time that week, Scorpius opened his mouth and lied. 

“Fantastic,” he beamed, “I’ve just mastered the confounding spell.”

“Congrats,” he trailed off, a peculiar look on his face as he studied Scorpius’s face. 

“There’s something in my teeth again, isn’t there?” Scorpius covered his mouth with his hand, “you really ought to notify my earlier, you know.”

“No it’s not that,” Albus said quickly, “I—”

“Boys.”

They both jumped. Professor McGonagall, her pointed hat poking a hole in the sky, stared down at them, a stern, grim look painted on her face.

“You’d better come with me.”

She turned on her heel, gliding between the tables and out of the Great Hall. The two boys turned to each other, mirroring perplexed expressions, and rising to their feet simultaneously. Jack turned to look as they passed, mouthing a “what’s going on” with raised brows. Scorpius shrugged and shot Jack an apologetic look as he hurried off after Albus.

“What do you think this is about?” He whispered in his friend’s ear as they followed closely after Professor McGonagall. 

“I dunno,” Albus murmured back, feigning indifference. His curiosity, however, was written plainly across his face. Scorpius had found himself becoming quite good at deciphering his friend’s moods.

They caught up to the Headmistress outside her office, where the magnificent gargoyle guarding the entrance was leaping aside, leading to the spinning spiral staircase. Scorpius had only been in this office a few times before, nearly all of them being the year before. In his mind, the magnificent circular room was synonymous with trouble. His heart fluttered just a little faster than usual as they climbed the steps.

The professor sat down heavily in her chair, beckoning the boys forward as she took off her glasses and placed them on the desk.

“Sit,” she commanded. They complied immediately, dropping into the seats in front of her desk like flies. 

“I have some news,” she cleared her throat awkwardly, peering down at the piece of parchment on her desk, “regarding your mother, Mr. Potter. She’s fallen ill and is requesting your presence at home this coming weekend.” 

Scorpius’s throat went dry. His eyes immediately darted toward Albus, whose face was white as a sheet. His own pain and grief after the loss of his mother rose to the forefront of his mind. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy, never mind his best friend.

“The floo is ready for you, if you’ll collect your things,” McGonagall said warmly. She looked, for a moment, much younger than her age. And much kinder than Scorpius was used to.

Albus stood up abruptly, muttering a “thank you” and turning on his heel. He headed directly for the door, his strides long and quick. Scorpius watched him go, standing to follow him. He paused for a moment, looking back to Professor McGonagall.

“If I may ask,” he said quietly, “why did you call me here along with Albus?” 

“Help him,” she said, not looking up, “Albus is a boy very much ruled by his emotions. You, Mr. Malfoy, of all people, should understand that. He’ll need a friend.” She went back to a piece of parchment on her desk, not missing a beat. 

Mulling her words over, Scorpius exited the office and headed for the Owlery, where he knew Albus would be. A newfound resolve was forming in his mind. Making his way across the grounds in the dark silent night, Scorpius made a promise to himself. He wouldn't let Albus go through what he'd gone through. He couldn't.


	3. Keeping the Faith

Albus sat with his back against a large stone pillar, staring out of a window at the moon. It looked almost larger than life from his position on the hay-strewn floor. He and his life felt strangely small in comparison.

He really should be packing his things right now. He knew Professor McGonagall would give him as much time as she could before she went looking, but his mother couldn’t wait forever. 

Was it selfish of him? To be sitting and staring out the window while Ginny was sick? Obviously her condition was bad. They wouldn’t have called him home if it hadn’t been bad. The thought of his vibrant, commanding mother lying feeble and helpless in a bed tightened the massive knot in his stomach.

“Albus?”

He didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Even if he hadn’t recognized the voice, no one else would know to look for him here. Scorpius sat down noiselessly and joined him in staring off into the night. 

Neither of them spoke, and for this, Albus was glad. At that moment, he didn’t need to fill the gaps of their silence. It was comfort enough to have his best friend sitting there with him, even if he knew it wouldn’t last.

“I won’t lie to you,” Scorpius murmured suddenly, “when m-my mum was sick, people did a lot of lying. I-I’m not going to do that now. Not to you.” Albus could feel his friend’s gaze on his face, but he didn’t turn.

“This is going to suck, Albus,” he said softly, “it’ll be the opposite of easy. It’s going to hurt like hell, and your whole f-family is going to be affected by it. You’ll probably cry eventually. S-several times, actually, if I’m being completely honest. And yell. And fight.” He trailed off, his eyes still intently glued to Albus’s face.

“I do have a point, though. No matter how hard it is, you s-swear to me you never give up, alright? Swear you won’t lose hope. Because, Al, as soon as you lose hope…you’ve lost everything.”

Albus looked up, finally. He met Scorpius’s eyes, and the two looked at each other solidly for a moment before he glanced away like he’d been slapped in the face. Albus inhaled sharply, leaning his head against the stone pillar and nodding his head slowly.

“I swear,” he promised quietly.

“Good, because this was beginning to f-feel less like a pep talk and more like an obituary for your self-confidence.”

Albus shot him a pointed look, and Scorpius winked, getting to his feet. He extended a hand toward his friend, his pale skin shining in the moonlight. Albus clasped it with a grimace and stood, shooting a final look out the window as they left the tower. It had been far from the perfect rallying speech, but it was Scorpius. And that made it all the more effective.

~

James and Lily were waiting in Professor McGonagall’s office when Albus arrived, Scorpius by his side. James stood with his hands clasped, a somber look etched across his face. Tear tracks crossed Lily’s face. They both nodded when he walked in, his sister offering him a weak smile.

“All ready?” The headmistress asked, clearing her throat. Albus nodded, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulder. Most of his clothes were at home anyway, and he didn’t anticipate needing much he couldn’t replace at home. He’d packed in a hurry, Scorpius sitting silently on the bed next to him. The other three boys in their dormitory—Jack, a tall, dark, brooding boy called Hendrix Smythe, and Quentin Jones, a talkative redhead with a penchant for overreacting—had already been fast asleep when they entered and when they left.

“I’ll see you, then?” Albus mumbled to Scorpius as McGonagall threw Floo powder into the crackling fire.

“Of course,” Scorpius smiled gently, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Okay,” he hesitated, some part of him wanting to reach out and touch his friend. Not for any particular reason, just for...well he didn’t know, really. Biting down on his lip, he nodded stiffly and turned, marching toward the fireplace. He felt the heat of the flames on his face as he moved forward behind James and Lily, waiting his turn. Stepping into the grate, the pleasant tickling feeling of the Floo fire warmed his toes. He shuffled back around, now facing back into the dimly lit office. Scorpius had a peculiar look on his face, his head slightly tilted and his lips parted.

“The Potter Residence,” Albus said clearly, before he had even a moment to consider anything else. McGongall’s office disappeared with a whoosh, the image of Scorpius’s face along with it. 

Immediately, Albus was disoriented. Glimpses of finely decorated parlours and jumbled kitchens flew by him, making his head rattle and spin. The sensation was not new, but it left him feeling sick every time he did it.

He landed suddenly, tumbling out of a fireplace and onto a neatly woven burgundy and gold rug.  
Coughing, he blinked soot from his eyes and cleared his throat. Brushing the hair out of his eyes, the room around him came suddenly into focus.

Framed photos of the Potters on holiday lined the rosy pink walls of their living room. Bookshelves sat stoically along the wall, half full of books and half full of trinkets they had collected throughout their lives. In the centre of the room, three plush armchairs and two mismatched sofas formed a circle. The fire crackled pleasantly, and the smell of pine and something flowery filled the room.

Home, Albus realized, his chest filling with a strangely warm feeling. He was home.

A shadow passed in front of him, and Albus looked up into the worry-stricken face of his father. Harry offered a small, pitiful grin, extending a hand to help Albus to his feet. James and Lily were already seated on the settee, blankets wrapped around them.

“Alright,” his father said quietly, straightening his glasses and looking around at his children. “Now that you’re all here. Come see your mother.” 

 

~

Scorpius spent the entirety of the next day realizing exactly how alone he really was.  
It had never dawned on him before just how much his friendships with other people depended on Albus’s presence. Without him, no one seemed even remotely interested in Scorpius’s life.

He sat by himself at the end of the Slytherin table at dinner, watching Jack plan Quidditch strategies and Pandora gossip with her friends. He had explained to them where Albus was at breakfast, and he’d skipped lunch in favour of practicing a transfiguration spell he was a little rusty on. There had always been a seat saved for him at the table when he arrived for meals. The idea of not having a place to sit at dinner hadn’t even occurred to him, until he walked into the Great Hall and didn’t see a single friendly face.

Annoyed, he flicked a grain of rice across the table. It flew through the air and landed in the seat across from him. Empty. Another innocuous reminder. 

He stood from the table, his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. Nobody looked up as he sped out of the hall in a whirl of robes and petty exasperation. His shoes made crisp clicking noises as he made a beeline for the Slytherin common room. The air around him grew colder as he descended deeper into the castle. 

He rounded a corner quickly and almost hurled into what looked like a fat two-headed troll. Stumbling backward, he squinted at the shape in front of him, a tight braid a red and gold tie coming into focus.

“Scorpius? What are you doing here?” 

The face of Rose Granger-Weasley assembled in front of him, cheeks bright red and eyes glinting. Next to her was a slightly disheveled Jamie Finch-Fletchley. An infamous smug look was plastered across his face as he pulled at his loosened tie.

“I could ask you the same question,” Scorpius said in a low voice, “and what are you doing with…him?” 

Rose gaped at him, her cheeks growing pinker by the second, “I…what I do with my personal time is none of your concern.” She cleared her throat, touching her index finger to her bottom lip lightly. 

It all came together at once for Scorpius. The loosened tie. The overtly smug look. 

“Oh, god,” he groaned suddenly, “him? Really, Rose? There wasn’t a single other person you could’ve snogged?” 

Rose’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open as she stammered for a quick response. Jamie, his top button freshly fastened, beat her to it. 

“Relax, Malfoy,” he smirked, “just because no one wants to get off with you doesn’t mean all of us have to stay celibate.”

“Jamie,” Rose screeched, shock stretching across her face. She looked back and forth from Scorpius to Jamie before finally storming off in a fit of indignation. By then, the pink had spread to the back of her neck and the tips of her ears. Jamie shrugged, shoved Scorpius into the stone wall, and went on his merry way after her.

The encounter having left him thoroughly shaken, Scorpius carried on down the passageway at a much slower pace. How was it that even ignorant gits like Finch-Fletchley managed to have someone to pass the time with? 

He muttered the password angrily and the stone wall slid aside. He ducked through the passageway and emerged into the chilly green light of the common room. A few others were gathered around the fire, eagerly chatting about the upcoming Weird Sisters reunion concert. Scorpius had just been discussing it the other day with Albus. Or, rather, laughing at the stupidity of people who would pay hundreds of Galleons just to see an overrated band play a few songs. 

Scorpius heaved a great sigh. It was awful of him to wish Albus hadn’t left. Absolutely terrible. Unfortunately, understanding the irrationality of his own feelings did little to decrease their effects. He missed his friend. A lot. And the knowledge that he may come back a different person was almost too much for his tired brain to comprehend.

Without taking off his socks, he fell into bed, knowing all too well that the days wouldn’t get any easier from here.

~

The children had fallen asleep in their parents bed. Albus, with his head in his mother’s lap and her hand lying peacefully atop his head, slightly entangled in the mess of black curls. Lily, curled up tightly and with her hand clutching Ginny’s arm and their matching freckles almost aligned. And James, stretched out alongside the rest of them, his hands behind his head. Always the silent guardian. All of them, breathing slow and deep and relaxed. It was improbable, Harry thought, that anything else had ever been so beautiful in all the history of the world.

Harry moved to find his wand and extinguish the lights, figuring he’d just sleep in the living room as there didn’t seem to be room for him in his bed. Albus stirred slightly, his mouth falling open as he shifted in his sleep. Harry found himself pausing for a moment, staring at his son sleeping peacefully for what seemed like the first time in months. It was often strange, not seeing his children for most of the year. They seemed to grow like weeds in the time they spent away from home. Despite the circumstances, Harry was glad they were here. It had only been a week, but they had fallen right back into familiar patterns. Harry had struggled with being a dad for a long time, but it seemed he was finally getting his footing.

He exited the bedroom and gathered a blanket and pillow from the cupboard in the hall. Loping into the living room, he had just set up his makeshift bed on the couch when there was a knock on the door. At this hour, it was particularly unusual to have any visitors at the Potter residence. The knock came again. Sharper, this time. More insistent. 

Sighing, Harry dropped his blanket and shuffled over to the entrance. He yawned broadly as he snapped open the locks and threw the door open, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the outside darkness.

There, standing on the front step with his coat collar pushed up and his slate grey eyes almost black in the night air, was none other than Mr. Draco Malfoy. 

Harry groaned.


	4. Awakening

Sitting on the stairs in his pajamas and eavesdropping on official Ministry business was all too familiar an activity for Albus.

It always _started out_ as an innocent activity. A last minute sweater forgotten on the sofa, or a late night drink of water. The list went on and on, but it always seemed to end up in the same place. Trapped in the stairwell, unable to move for fear of creaks, and half-accidentally listening in on a conversation he had no right to be a part of.

Who said Gryffindors were the only ones who could be curious?

“Alright,” he heard the low murmur of his father’s voice from below, “what’s this about?”

He had identified the other voice as Draco Malfoy in the first second he spoke. It was lower than Scorpius’s, but had the same clear, sharp cadence to it. It was a fraction colder, and there was much less stuttering, but it was familiar all the same.

Draco cleared his throat, “I trust you recall our discussion on the platform from a few weeks ago?”

“Of course,” said Harry.

“Well, there have been…” Draco trailed off for a moment, and Albus could nearly hear the thoughts whirring through his mind, “…developments.”

There came a shuffling noise as Harry presumably shifted forward in his seat. No one spoke for a few moments.

“What kind of developments?”

“More sightings,” murmured Draco, “it appears the usage of the stone is becoming more and more frequent. Whoever has a hold of it is evidently not worried about subtlety.”

“And am I just to believe you naturally stumbled upon all of this information?” Harry accused, a hint of dubious incredulity colouring his words.

“I heard some of the Aurors discussing it outside my office today. I don’t imagine they were planning on telling you, given your current,” he paused briefly, “state.”

“How could they possibly not tell me?” Harry muttered, half-ignoring the thinly veiled jab. There was a tinge of fire in his voice. Albus had heard this tone many a time. “I’m the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, for god’s sakes.”

“Precisely why I thought you ought to know,” said Draco, “and there is one more thing. I trust I can count on your discretion?”

“Of course,” Harry challenged.

“The last sighting,” began Draco, “was Fred Weasley.”

~

 

Advanced Potion-Making ended with a bang. Literally.

The wands of at least half the class spewed sparks everywhere, the echo of a cacophony of sudden loud noises reverberating inside the walls of the potions classroom. Rose held her wand steady, rolled her eyes at her classmates, and proceeded to perform the spell perfectly.

Professor Slughorn, his eyebrows a tad singed, looked over her steadily brewing potion with a bemused expression.

“Well, Miss Granger,” he said happily, “you certainly do take after your mother.”

“Granger- _Weasley_ ,” Rose corrected for what felt like the hundredth time that year. People (teachers, mostly) always seemed to forget the second half of her last name. It wasn’t bothersome for any particular reason, but Rose found herself oddly defensive each time it came up.

“Yes, of course,” Slughorn muttered, moving away to check Jamie’s cauldron. Rose’s potion was a pleasant blue colour, almost exactly matched to the shade in the textbook. Jamie’s was a dull brown, and Rose watched with an upturned nose as a few bits of something lumpy floated to the surface.

She had pondered the idea of Jamie Finch-Fletchley many a time. It was ridiculous that she liked him. Preposterous. There were so many handsomer, smarter, funnier, better boys out there who no doubt had their eye on her. So why, of all people, was she drawn to him?

Perhaps she was just _that_ egotistical. Perhaps she needed a partner who was “less good” than her in every way imaginable. There didn’t seem to be any other explanation for the jittery feeling that invaded her every bone when he kissed her.

She pushed the thought from her mind, well aware of the dull red spreading to her cheeks. She kept her face angled toward her cauldron, hoping she could blame the blush on the heat of the bubbling concoction.

“Alright,” the professor called, “that’s it for this afternoon. Please extract a vial of your potion and turn it in before you leave.” He turned busily toward his desk and began reorganizing stacks of paper as the students packed up their belongings.

Rose pulled a crystal-clear tube out of her bag and filled it with the warmly bubbling potion. She corked it and shoved her books away, hurriedly placing her submission on the desk and exiting the classroom before anyone could notice she had left.

No such luck. Jamie caught her just a few feet outside of the room.

He fell into step beside her, saying nothing until they had rounded a few corners and were well removed from any classrooms. Their book bags thumped against their hips in a peculiar sort of rhythm, exactly in time. Out of the blue, he grabbed her arm and pulled her dramatically into a broom closet, shutting the door and wrapping them in nearly complete darkness.

Almost instantly his lips were on hers. The warmth of his skin seeped into her fingers as she folded her hands behind his neck, pulling his face closer toward her own. He stumbled forward a bit, pushing her lightly up against the wall. Her breath deepened and her stomach plunged. He kissed her slowly, like he could afford to wait. Like he had all the time in the world. Like nothing else mattered much except the feeling of being there with her. In a matter of seconds, it all became too much. She jerked away suddenly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and pressing a hand to her chest. Her heartbeat came in quick, whirring jumps.

“We can’t keep doing this,” she whispered. Her throat constricted tightly, enough that she found it difficult to force the words out of her mouth.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” Jamie said in a pleased voice, “I can feel it, Rose. You love it.”

“Don’t speak to me as if I’m something you can play with,” she said sharply. In the darkness, she could barely see the glint of his eyes. “I can make my own decisions, and I don’t need your…your _feedback_ to do so. I don’t want to do this anymore, and you’re going to listen to me when I tell you that.”

Even through the waning light, Rose could see his face fall. This wasn’t a joke to him anymore, she realized with a start. It had started out as a way to relieve the stress that came with being ‘on top’. That’s what it had been for Rose, at least. But somewhere along the way it appeared it had changed for the both of them. And that wasn’t something she was prepared to deal with. Better to cut it off early, than to wait for it to go deep enough that it hurt them both more when it inevitably ended.

“I don’t…Rose, you can’t possibly…are you…breaking up with me?” Jamie croaked.

“There’s nothing to break,” she mumbled, “we were never together. You aren’t my boyfriend. This isn’t anything except two people remaining friends. That’s all.”

He looked as if he might say something for a moment. His mouth hung open like a fish, words battling each other on the tip of his tongue. Then, without any warning, he turned on his heel and left the broom closet, slamming the door shut behind him.

Rose felt as if a weight had collapsed inside her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a deep breath. She was a woman of logic, and this was the logical course of action. This was the right decision.

So why, if this was the right thing to do, was she suddenly crying? Silly, illogical tears, but tears nonetheless. There was nothing between her and Jamie. She reminded herself of this fact even as she sank to the ground and pulled her knees to her chest. She made the right call. Everything was going to be okay. It had to be.

~

A week had passed from the night Albus heard the conversation between his father and Draco, and he was still no closer to piecing together the clues. He had been hard at work in the art of avoiding Harry, spending most of his time in the garden with Lily or reading in his room. James was entirely insufferable. Each day he seemed to grow angrier and angrier until you couldn’t stand in the same room as him without feeling an aura of rage. And being around his mother was too upsetting to stay for long. Every time her sentence was interrupted with a round of violent coughing, Albus was sickeningly reminded of her illness.

The healers from St. Mungo’s made daily visits to the home, checking on Ginny’s progress. From what Albus had heard in hushed whispers, they were no closer to figuring out exactly what it was. None of the spells or multiple healing draughts they had supplied had worked at all. If Ginny’s condition stayed on the same path, it was unlikely she would survive much longer. The future was bleak.

And, of course, he missed Hogwarts. He missed his classes and the grounds and the sweet smell of pine that filled the air in fall. The pumpkin pie littering the tables at dinner. The enchanted floating jack-o-lanterns. He missed Pandora. He missed Scorpius.

He had taken to leafing through the old box of letters he kept under his bed. Numerous accounts of Scorpius’s world travels with his father. Lengthy paragraphs detailing the versatility of different vegetables. The ridiculous nature of the notes his friend had written him over the years never failed to bring a smile to his face.

A few words on the bottom portion of a letter half-buried in the box caught his eye. The scrawling hand of Scorpius’s cursive looped directly across the page, strong, certain, and in a precise, neat line. He pulled it from the box, his eyes finding the important bits at the bottom of the parchment.

_It was absolutely massive, Al. The biggest hippogriff I’ve ever seen. Even better than the drawings! Magnificent! Astounding! God, you would love it. You should be here. Dad is keeping me very busy but I can’t help thinking it would be better if you were with us._

_Anyway, I hope you’re well. Say hello to your family from me! Don’t forget to feed the plant I gave you. She gets quite…vicious when she’s hungry. See you soon, my friend._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

A crash and an exaggerated shout from downstairs wrenched Albus from his musings. He got to his feet in a hurry, yanking the door to his bedroom open and thundering down the stairs.

The family was gathered in Harry and Ginny’s bedroom. The curtains were thrown open for the first time in weeks, and a pleasant-smelling breeze filtered in through the open window. Ginny was sitting up, pink restored in her cheeks and her face looking a little less gaunt. She beamed as Albus entered the room.

“Oh, someone tell him quickly please,” she exclaimed.

Harry, who looked brighter than he’d looked in a while, grinned broadly at his youngest son. He ruffled his hair with a quick swipe.

“You just missed the healer,” he said proudly, “but, essentially, your mother’s condition has improved drastically almost overnight. They want to keep monitoring her but…well, it appears we’re out of the woods, Al.”

Albus's heart swelled insistently in his chest. The words his father had just spoken to him put this moment at the top of his list. Every fear he'd had over the past few weeks seemed to dissipate, gone into thin air. Ginny was safe. She was going to be okay. His mother was going to live. 

“That’s fantastic,” Albus beamed, looking from one face to another. He moved forward, clasping his mother’s hand as a wave of overwhelming relief washed over him.

“Absolutely fantastic.”

~

It had been almost two weeks since the last time Scorpius spoke to his best friend, and the never ending onslaught of boredom was beginning to drive him insane.

He had gotten a single letter a week ago. Details on Ginny’s condition (still bad) and an update on Harry’s renewed resolved to remain positive. Lily remained quiet. James was increasingly bitter. It seemed to Scorpius that the whole family was sinking into odd coping mechanisms.  Of course, he couldn’t really tell with Albus...because he hadn’t seen him in a fortnight.

He approached the stone wall hiding the entrance to the common room and grumbled the password to it, ducking through the passageway and stomping up the stairs into the dormitory. He threw his book bag onto the floor and flopped onto his bed, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat from next to him. His eyes snapped open.

“Hi,” Albus said, tapping Scorpius’s shoulder as a broad smile manifested across his face, “sit up. I have a lot to tell you.”


	5. Pretending

Jack Burke had lost the first three games of the Quidditch season, and he was not happy.

Having finished a particularly grueling practice lead by himself, he trekked back toward the castle with his broomstick slung over his shoulder. His already muddy boots squelched through the damp dirt, creating a rather unpleasant wet feeling in his socks.

He could hear his teammates grumbling behind him. They never seemed to stop  _ grumbling _ ! If they would just win a few games he wouldn’t have to push them this hard. No one else on the team seemed to want to win as much as he did. They all seemed to have stopped caring the second Jack became captain. Last year they had won almost every game, truly, they had been the cream of the crop. And now? He was constantly astounded by their lack of enthusiasm. It was positively exhausting; trying to propel a team to glory when they so obviously didn’t care.

The smell of sweat and damp mildew mingled with warm air as Jack wiped off the soles of his boots and stepped into the castle. It was a short uphill walk from the pitch to the Slytherin common room, and he reached it in almost no time. He traipsed past the fire and up the stairs, stripping off layers of damp clothing as he went.

A low murmur of voices was resounding from the dormitory. Jack pushed the door open and, to his immediate surprise, recognized the familiar tousled black mop of hair sitting across from Scorpius.

“Potter!” He exclaimed, dropping his broom. Albus looked up abruptly, his face splitting into a wide grin.

“Jack,” he smiled, “you look  _ filthy _ !”

“How’re you?” Jack asked, ignoring the comment and striding forward, clapping Albus on the back. “How’s your mum?”

“Both good,” the other boy beamed, “Mum’s loads better. The healers said she’ll be able to get up and walk about in a matter of days.”

Something about the way Albus’s face lit up at the words he spoke made Jack want to smile. “That’s wonderful,” he said genuinely, running a quick hand through his hair. “Are you back, then? You’re staying for the rest of term?”

“Looks like it,” Albus grinned, “just in time to see you get your ass kicked by Gryffindor.”

“Sod off,” Jack chuckled. He was about to shoot back another devastating insult when his stomach made an inhumanly loud sound.

“Someone’s hungry,” Albus raised his brows.

“Skipped dinner for practice,” Jack rolled his eyes, “fancy a walk down to the kitchens?”

“Sure!” Albus said emphatically, “I’m starved.”

Someone cleared their throat from behind Albus. Jack leaned back and caught sight of Scorpius, his cheeks slightly tinged pink, with his eyes angled toward the ground.

 

“A-Albus,” he said squeakily, “we were…um, well you were going to tell me something, weren’t you?”

“It can wait,” Albus said, ever the impatient one. “Shall we?”

“I…well, I’ve already eaten,” grumbled Scorpius, “I’ll stay here. You go. Long journey, you’ve got to be hungry.”

There was a brief pause as Albus looked sheepishly back and forth between his two friends. Jack swore he could hear the gears cranking round in his brain. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again: stuck in a constant loop.

“I am,” he admitted, “quite hungry, actually. You sure you don’t mind?”

“P-positive,” Scorpius said, offering a weak smile.

Albus either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He turned back toward Jack with a grin, pulling his shoes back on and a sweater over his shoulder. He followed Jack out of the common room and down a corridor, chattering all the way about this and that. He didn’t seem to mind that the other boy was evidently not as engaged in the conversation as he was. When he got excited (which wasn’t often), Albus could talk for hours without so much as a flea to listen.

They traipsed down the corridor to the kitchens, finally reaching the faded old painting of a bowl of fruit.

“All you have to do to get in is—”

“I know,” Albus assured, “or did you forget who my father is?” Jack grinned as the other boy reached up a finger and lightly rubbed the pear.

It let out a high-pitched shrieking giggle and morphed instantly into a doorknob. Jack saw Albus jump out of the corner of his eye and hid a chuckle behind his hand. He turned the handle, stepping quietly into the high-ceilinged kitchen.

Immediately they were overwhelmed by a torrent of bustling house elves. They ran in every direction, holding pots and pans of steel and brass and carting around piles of sparkling silverware. The massive stone and brick fireplace at the other end of the room coughed black dust and soot as a group of elves scrubbed at it with a mop.

“Mr. Burke!” A small voice cried from somewhere just below Jack’s eye line, “and friend! Come in, please, sir, how was your practice?”

“Lovely, Tenny, thank you for asking,” he smiled warmly at the chipper elf beaming up at him, beckoning Albus to come along behind him as she began to dart toward a small table in the corner. “What’ve you got for us tonight?”

“Tenny has prepared a lovely roast beef,” she boasted, presenting to them the small table laden with dishes, “along with mashed potatoes and green beans. And trifle for dessert!” The proud look on her face was enough to warrant a round of applause. Albus joined in quickly as the elf blushed, bowed, and backed away, murmuring to herself.

Jack caught sight of the bewildered look on Albus’s face as he sat down at the (tiny) table and dug in. He felt a chuckle come on as his friend gazed around the room in awe. There was a lot to Albus that people seemed to overlook at first glance. He was cynical and intolerable at times, yes, but there were parts of him his anger hadn’t touched. As Jack shoveled food into his grumbling stomach, he found himself thinking that people, much like Quidditch teams, often found countless ways to surprise you. And perhaps that wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Perhaps he could learn to live with being surprised.

~

Over the years, Scorpius had become very, very good at pretending.

A sick, dying parent made sure of that. His mother had spent many of the nights in the last year of her life up in fits of seizures and cold sweats, looking to the form of her sleeping, slowly breathing son for a miniscule source comfort in her endlessly devastating life. So Scorpius had first become good at pretending to be asleep. And then pretending to be strong. And then pretending other things. All for the simple reason that he had to be. Because the alternative was worse.

It shouldn’t have come as a shock to him, then, when he was so effortlessly able to ignore Albus’s quiet whispers when he returned to the dormitory. He breathed long, slow breaths and kept his eyes shut tightly, doing what he was best at. Pretending.

Albus gave up eventually, as all things inevitably do. He went to bed. His breathing slowed and the dormitory was quiet except for the subtle shifting of the other boys in their beds. Scorpius lay awake, his mind bombarded with too many thoughts. He was still and quiet. He blinked through the darkness and listened to the noiselessness.

Alone, he realized, but still pretending.

~

Albus was up before dawn the next morning, dressed and in the Great Hall for breakfast promptly at seven. Not a single other boy in his dormitory had even stirred when he left. The hall was empty. No matter, though. He was happy to be awake. After all, there were things he had to do.

Pandora met him a few feet from the base of the lake, wrapped in several exotic looking scarves and an intricately crafted coat. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and her eyes were icy blue in the early morning sunlight.

They kissed for a long while. Albus never wanted to leave again.

Then they walked, and they talked. About school, about Ginny, about Quidditch, and about a plethora of other things. Albus held her hand and kept a steady stream of words flowing from his mouth for an hour. They watched as a dark cloud rolled in from the east, bringing about the promise of a rain-filled few days. The sun made a valiant stand, but the fog overtook it eventually, a thick mist descending over the castle. The clock struck eight as the first few raindrops dripped down the backs of their necks. They ran back inside, shrieking and giggling all the way. The grin stayed on Albus’s face all day.

He barely listened to what his friends were saying at lunch. Pandora was making faces at him from her table across the room, and he couldn’t keep the laughs at bay. 

“—and that was when I saw the dragon coming out of the broom closet.”

“What?” Albus said, his attention immediately captured in the conversation happening next to him.

“Oh, lovely. Glad you heard that bit,” Scorpius drawled sarcastically, “you’re not even listening to us!”

“Give him a break,” Jack laughed, throwing half a piece of potato at Scorpius, “the boy’s in love.”

Their section of the table fell immediately silent. Albus’s face reddened, Scorpius stared back and forth at the other two with his mouth slightly agape, and Jack bit his lip, aware that he had just put his foot in it. The clamor of the Great Hall continued around them, but none of them moved.

“I, um…” Scorpius stood from the table, mumbling something abrupt about finishing up some homework before class.

“Wait!” Albus jumped, not too sure of exactly what he was going to say next.

“I-I’ll see you all at dinner, then.”

And he was gone. Albus sat back down heavily. Jack made a face and put his fork down with a loud clang.

“Sorry about that, mate,” he said quietly, “I wasn’t sure if—”

“It’s fine,” concluded Albus, “not a problem. I’m finished too, though, so I’ll see you at dinner.”

He left before the other boy could get another word in, shoving his hands into the pockets of his robes and striding out of the hall. He hurried down a corridor, making a beeline for the common room. Maybe he could catch Scorpius before he left for whatever class he had next. Explain…something to him. He brushed roughly past a group of giggling Gryffindor girls who let out high-pitched shrieks as he moved by.

Someone caught him quickly by the arm and spun him round. Albus tripped a little, stumbling as he glanced up into the face of Pandora looking down on him. She had him pinned against the wall, her mouth on his, before he could even let out an exclamation. Surprised, Albus took a moment before kissing her back fervently. Any thought of what he had been about to do flew from his mind as her hands shifted through his hair and she pushed herself closer and closer and closer.

She pulled back suddenly, leaving Albus slightly wobbly and breathing hard. He pressed a hand against the wall for support as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You looked a little upset,” she explained softly, “I thought you might need a pick-me-up.”

“I…well…um, thank you,” Albus stammered.

She giggled a little, “don’t just stand there with your mouth open like that. Come on. We’ve got class.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him along after her. He followed without a second thought.

~

The smell of roast chicken and mashed potatoes drifted through the walls from the Great Hall. Scorpius’s stomach grumbled loudly, but he stayed exactly where he was.

He had never skipped class before. He had never even wanted to. But something about sitting in that freezing Ancient Runes classroom, listening to Professor Ringer speak in a monotone voice made him feel sick. Especially on this day, of all days. He made brief eye contact with Rose as he left the room for the hospital wing. She grimaced at him, clearly echoing Scorpius’s own feelings. 

Madame Pomfrey had pronounced him completely alright. She had sent him on his way back to class with a small draught in his pocket and a clean bill of health. But Scorpius didn’t go back to class. He went to the library, slunk past the watchful eye of the librarian, and hid himself in the furthest stack of books from the door.

And there he sat for the next hour. Leafing through random books from the shelves until he heard the pounding of footsteps outside signaling that class was over and dinner had begun. He was in no mood to see anyone right now, least of all Albus, so he stayed put. Reading books and mulling things over: two things he was very good at.

It was interesting, really, how expectations worked. Based off life and experience yet always so incredibly far-fetched. He had expected to feel better once Albus returned. To be lifted from the drought of excitement he was in the midst of, and to feel something other than boredom and nausea again. He had expected a lot of things from his best friend, and he was slowly realizing that none of them were to be fulfilled. It was a ridiculous amount of trust to bestow in a person, so really, it was inevitable that he had been let down. That was a fact. Scorpius was a man of facts, but this was not one he liked very much.

At long last the librarian started making her rounds, extinguishing lamps. Scorpius got to his feet, dusted off the seat of his pants, and stealthily made his way out of the library. It was quite dark in the corridors now, and he took several wrong turns before ending up back in the common room. He stepped through the stone entrance and was greeted immediately by the sight of Albus, his knees drawn to his chest, waiting in an armchair by the fire.

“Scorp!” He exclaimed, clambering awkwardly over his legs and to his feet. “I’ve been waiting ages, mate. Come on, sit down, I really do have a lot to tell you.”

This was the last thing Scorpius had been expecting. He made his way slowly and silently over to the fire, lowering himself calmly into a chair facing Albus.

“Alright,” he questioned, “what’s this about?”

“Your father visited my father at my house about a week after I got home.”

“ _ What _ ?” Scorpius exclaimed, leaning forward in his chair, “and you didn’t think to m-mention this in your letter?”

“I wanted to tell you in person!” Albus went on, “and there’s more. They were talking about…official Ministry business.”

Scorpius let out a groan, burying his face in his hands. The last thing he needed was Albus making another reckless move. The year was due to be stressful enough as it was, he didn’t need the added worry of Albus doing something stupid again.

“Hear me out,” he continued, “your dad said something about sightings. He said the usage of some ‘stone’ is becoming more frequent, and that whoever has it isn’t worried about being subtle. Do you have any idea what he could be talking about?”

“None,” Scorpius shook his head. “Dad doesn’t really discuss work at home.”

“Christ, I almost forgot!” Albus yelped, making Scorpius jump a little. “He said…well he said someone had sighted…”

“For Dumbledore’s sake, P-Potter, spit it out!”

“He said someone saw Fred Weasley.”

Silence.

Scorpius sat back in his seat, stunned. Just seconds before he had been a mess of predictions and anticipation, and now he didn’t even know what to think.

“But…he’s dead,” he said flatly.

“Obviously I know that, idiot, that’s what makes this absolutely insane,” gulped Albus.

Insane didn’t even begin to sum up what Scorpius was feeling. Something in him had sparked at what Albus was telling him. This entire situation was a puzzle. A riddle, made entirely to be solved. Slowly but surely, Scorpius’s brain began to feel a little less fuzzy. Pieces and words floated around with no attachments inside his head, trying and failing to connect to ideas. He sat, Albus watching him, and commanded his brain to work.

Eons seemed to pass. The fire crackled endlessly and Scorpius’s head felt like it was taking a beating. Maybe Albus was talking, maybe he wasn’t. It didn’t matter. When there was a problem to solve that could be solved, nothing else was of any importance. He was so close. So…close.

Everything snapped suddenly into place.

“Blimey,” he whispered, “A-Albus, I think…I think someone’s got a hold of the R-Resurrection Stone.”

For the third time in one day, everything fell suddenly and absolutely silent. Albus’s eyes crinkled, his eyebrows raising and words moving behind his closed lips.

He spoke quicker than anticipated, shock fading from his green eyes with every word. “The Resurrection Stone,” he mumbled, “that makes absolute sense. You’re a genius, Scorpius.”

“I try,” he cracked a smile, feigning modesty as his heart pounded in his chest.

Albus rose unexpectedly, pacing quickly back and forth from one end of the common room to the other. The insurmountable size of his every thought was displayed clearly on his face as he massaged his temples.

“Okay,” he said suddenly, “you’re going to say this sounds crazy, I know you are, but you have to listen to me.”

“Nope,” Scorpius shook his head, “no, no, no, a-absolutely not. The last time you did this I ended up being  _ t-tortured  _ and we both almost died. Or have you forgotten that?”

Albus flinched. It was a sore spot for him, even now.

“Listen,” he moved, “Scorp, we could get your mother back.”

“D-don’t you dare try to make this about me,” Scorpius shot back, also rising to his feet. Anger flared up inside up, rearing its flaming head after weeks of being shoved down. “This is entirely about  _ you,  _ A-Albus, and your incessant need to p-prove something to your father.”

Albus’s jaw tightened, one of his fists clenching tighter. “You’re not listening to me. This has nothing to do with my father, I’m doing this for you. It broke you when your mother died, Scorpius, I just want to help.”

“I am  _ not  _ broken,” he hissed, “and h-haven’t you read the story? The people who come back aren’t themselves, they’re changed. Cadmus Peverell k-killed himself over that stupid rock, why would you want to touch it?”

“Forgive me for trying to help!” Albus said tauntingly, “truly, I apologize for wanting you to feel better.”

“God, you are so blind, aren’t you?” Scorpius seethed, “I’m not upset because my m-mother is dead, I’m upset because the only person I c-care about at this damned school hasn’t heard a word I’ve said in w-weeks! I fought for you, A-Albus, I fought through an entire u-universe for you and now my only friends in the world are a Quidditch player who d-doesn’t even like me, you, and the girl you’re  _ shagging _ .” 

Once more, there was only silence. Albus stood entirely still, and every bone in Scorpius’s body was rattling. His hands shook so hard he had to clasp them behind his back to stop the movement. He squeezed his eyes shut, panting with the effort the words had taken out of him.

“I’m not…Scorpius, we’re not…” Albus trailed off, his hands outstretched and his palms out. His face had gone slack, one emotion written plainly across it.

Pity.

“Don’t,” he mumbled, moving past him slowly, “just...goodnight.”

He strode away, his heart hammering in his chest so loud he feared he would wake the whole dormitory. He climbed into bed without changing into his pajamas, drawing the curtains shut and lying back on the pillow.

He didn’t hear Albus come upstairs.


	6. Uncertainties

The door to the training room swung open, exposing the group of people huddled inside to the deafening roar of cheers and applause that swelled from outside. Lily gulped and pulled her glove tighter on her hand. The nerves, along with her breakfast, were coming back up again.

“Alright,” Rose said, getting to her feet, “first things first. We’ve got this.”

Lily wasn’t so sure.

“We’ve been practicing for weeks. We know all of their moves, and anything they can throw our way we have prepared for. Now, I know a lot of you think you can slack off because this is our first match against Slytherin, but this might as well be the most important game we play this year. This is our chance to show them who’s on top. Make them understand that Gryffindors are winners.” She surveyed the team with glowing eyes, her red and gold threaded robes shining in the filtered sunlight.

Not only was this the first match the Gryffindor team would play against Slytherin, but it was also the first ever match that Lily would play Keeper. To say she was incredibly nervous would be an understatement.

Her uncle could laugh now about the “Weasel King” anthem the crowds had sung to him when he was a Keeper, but his stories of the event were always tinged with teenage humiliation. They were tales that had coloured Lily’s entire understanding of Quidditch, even more so than her own father’s experiences as a Seeker. It had come as a bit of a shock when, three practices before the big game, she found she was rather good at being Keeper. She had played a Chaser her whole life, whether it was at home in the fields growing up, or in her first year on the Gryffindor team. To put it simply, she was entirely unsure of what to expect.

“You alright, kid?”

She turned at the pressure of a hand on her shoulder. James grinned down at her, brows raised.

“Fine,” she said softly, forcing the words out through her constricted throat.

“Right, yeah, that was quite convincing.” James rolled his eyes, swatting his sister lightly with his broom. “Don’t worry about it, Lil, we’ve all seen you at practice. You’re going to be fine.”

“Uncle Ron was good at practice too,” she grumbled under her breath, “and we all know how _that_ turned out.”

“Yeah, well, I think we can definitively say you aren’t anything like Uncle Ron,” he grinned.

“Chin up, Lily. You won’t even—”

He was cut off as Rose once again got to her feet, cupping her hands around her mouth and amplifying her voice around the room.

“It’s time,” she cried, “let’s go.”

Lily grit her teeth, adjusting her helmet. The room emptied as the team gathered into a single file line and ran out the doors to deafening applause. The last to exit, she took one final look around the training room.

She had pushed her nerves away all throughout the past week, expecting them to dissipate with time. No such luck. Her hands shook more and more fervently with every step she took toward match. Biting down on her lip, she paused just outside the doors. A few deep breaths was all she needed. Just relax, and everything would be fine. Her team believed in her. She trusted her ability. She could do this. Swallowing her doubts, she shook the weight of her uncertainties off and straightened her shoulders.

Whatever the results of the game, at least it was sure to be interesting.

~

Albus didn’t care much for Quidditch.

In fact, the topic had always been somewhat of a sore spot for him. Everyone in his family played the official sport of the wizarding world, and all were champions at it. His father, amongst other things, had been the star Seeker of the Gryffindor team. His mother was a correspondent for the Daily Prophet, specializing in Quidditch. His brother was a highly praised Seeker, and his sister was skilled at every position. The simple act of disliking the sport had been a major factor in the wedge that drove Albus away from every other member of his family.

Hence, he really hated Quidditch.

But he was here to support his sister. His two weeks spent in constant worry at home had tightened the bond he shared with Lily. Every walks around the garden and (relatively) hushed games of wizard chess had brought them closer together. And, Albus supposed, it didn’t hurt to cheer James on either.

A loud scream went up around the stands and Albus glanced up to see the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams flying out onto the pitch. He glimpsed Jack, a wide smile plastered across his face, darting down and around on his broom. James, on the opposite end of the field, did two loop-de-loops to a roar of applause. He squinted his eyes for a flash of red hair but caught only the rusty brown of Rose’s braid. Where on earth was his sister?

“’Scuse me!”

Tearing his eyes away from the field, Albus looked over to see Pandora wiggling her way up the stands. Two mugs of butterbeer were clutched in her hands. She glanced up, smiling happily, as she approached him.

“One for me, and one for you,” she said cheerily, handing a mug to Albus. She pulled her jacket tighter around her, her free hand grasping Albus’s.

A slow blush spread up the back of his neck and inched toward his cheeks. He was quite unused to flaunting his relationship around in public, and wasn’t quite sure how he felt about the presence of her hand in his at this very moment. Pandora, on the other hand, looked quite relaxed as she gazed bemusedly at the game.

Albus swallowed his uncertainty and refocused on the game. He spotted Lily, flying cautiously toward the goalposts with her chest pressed tight to her broom. From this far away, it was difficult to see her facial expressions.

“Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the first Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match of the school year!” The voice of Hufflepuff Tim Tilly struck a chord through the crowd. A rallying cry went up in the Gryffindor stands as the teams landed their brooms. Albus snuck a quick glance at Pandora, who was wrapped in a house-neutral cloak and tapping her hand lightly against her leg in support. She hadn’t voiced any concerns when he suggested it, but he knew it must be uncomfortable for her to be standing in the Slytherin stands.

Madame Moons, who was refereeing the match, pressed her wand to her neck as she beckoned all the teams down toward the middle of the pitch where she stood. She cleared her throat, her voice magically amplified.  
  
“A clean, fair game, ladies and gentlemen,” she said sternly, “no funny business.”  
  
The two captains, Jack and Rose, nodded and shook hands briefly. Madame Moons blew her whistle, said something inaudible to both teams, and climbed onto her broom. The players followed suit, rising into their positions in the air.  
  
Another sharp chirp from the whistle, and they were off.  
  
“Immediately the Quaffle has gone to Gryffindor captain, Rose Granger-Weasley. She’s flying like a bullet, dodging Slytherin Chasers. And a beautiful pass to Jamie Finch-Fletchley. These two are a remarkable duo, folks, they move in absolute synchrony. They’re moving toward the goalposts and…and…they sc--! No! Slytherin has taken the Quaffle back! Beautiful save by Slytherin Keeper, Hendrix Smythe. Take notes, Lily Potter!”  
  
Albus’s mouth fell open. He turned, buzzing with indignation, toward the stand where Tim was yelping his commentary. How _dare_ he? What a terrible thing to say to a person on their first day playing a new position! He fumed quietly, his fists clenching and unclenching almost rhythmically. Only the pressure of Pandora’s hand in his prevented him from striding right on over to the far stand and punching that _git_ Tilly in the mouth.  
  
“And the Slytherins are really bringing their A-game now. They’re flying quicker than I’ve ever seen before, star chaser Eloise Doyle making effortless passes back and forth to all of hier chasers as captain Jack Burke swoops below in search of the snitch. Doyle to Ajax Rivers. Rivers to Amaretta Borgin. Borgin back to Doyle. Approaching the goalpost…and…SLYTHERIN SCORES!”  
  
The Slytherin’s cheers filled the freezing air, accompanied by groans from the Gryffindors. For a moment, Albus felt his heart raise and the urge to clap. Then he realized that his house had just scored against his sister. His heart sank back down. Lily’s face at the moment was enough to make sure of that.  
  
The game struck up again as quickly as it had paused. Slytherin was a force of nature, taking the Quaffle back and forth and up and around the pitch over and over until even James catching the snitch wasn’t enough to win Gryffindor the game. Albus and Pandora shuffled quietly down the stairs of the stands after the game had ended, celebrating Slytherins jumping and screeching around them.  
  
“Al,” Pandora said, when they were out of earshot from the field, “are you alright?”  
  
“Fine,” Albus said steadily, not meeting her eye.  
  
She sighed deeply, the hand holding his moving slowly toward her waist. She placed it on her hip, letting his fingers rest carefully there. Her other hand reached up toward his face, turning it toward hers.  
  
“Fine?”  
  
In an effort to avoid further discussion of his feelings, Albus leaned down and kissed her. She pulled closer for a moment, her hands roaming further than he had expected. He broke away suddenly, slightly unnerved by the close contact. His heart skipped a beat nervously.  
  
“I’ve figured it out,” Pandora spoke suddenly.  
  
Albus frowned at her, “figured out what?”  
  
“You’ve been like this for the past two weeks,” she bit her lip, “you pull away every time I try to touch you. You won’t tell me what’s wrong. I thought it was just because it’s winter now, and my father also tends to get a bit moody in winter, but it isn’t that is it?” She paused, looking up at him from under her lashes. “You just miss your friend.”  
  
He turned away like he’d been struck. The truth of her words sunk into his skin like a knife. He and Scorpius hadn’t spoken in a fortnight. Their mornings, waking up next to each other, were filled with icy silences. They didn’t speak at meals, didn’t look at each other in the one class they shared together, and avoided each other at all costs. It had been hell, truly. Jack was a great man and a fantastic friend, but failed dramatically as a substitute for the one person that had always understood him. Always.  
  
“I know I’m right, Al,” whispered Pandora, “but I also know you’re stubborn. You won’t admit anything until you’re forced…so come find me when you’ve made up with the blonde one.” She grimaced, half a smile and half a frown, and turned on her heel back toward the castle.  
  
Albus stood in shock for a moment as she walked away from him. He struggled to recall what he’d been planning to do before his encounter with his girlfriend.  
  
Lily. Right. He had to find Lily.  
  
He wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck, shrugged his clock further up his shoulders, and followed after Pandora. The grass was hard and painted with the cold hand of frost. Winter had dawned upon the castle in a very short period of time. Watching Filch struggle to put up ornaments on the massive tree in the Great Hall with his limited magical ability had always been a tradition for he and Scorpius. Doing it alone just wasn’t the same.  
  
The Gryffindor Tower was as far from the Quidditch pitch as anything could be. Albus was out of breath by the time he reached it. Climbing yet another flight of stairs, he was greeted by the sight of the Fat Lady polishing a wine glass in her frame.  
  
“Potter!” She screeched when she saw him, “the Slytherin Potter! What’re you doing here, boy? Wrong house!” She cackled mirthlessly. Albus stifled a scream.  
  
“Is my sister in there?” He said instead.  
  
“And why should I tell you?” The Fat Lady shot back. Great. She was in a difficult mood today, then.  
  
“Please,” Albus said insistently, “I just…I want…she’s had a tough day. Could you just tell her I want to speak with her?”  
  
“Young man, I’m not an owl,” she huffed, “I suggest you crawl back to your dungeon dormitory before I have Professor McGonagall called on you!”  
  
Again stifling the urge to kick something, Albus shoved his hands in his pockets.  
  
“Wonderful. Thank you for nothing.”  
  
He took the steps back down to the dungeons two at a time. This day was going very poorly for him. The sky outside the windows was growing darker, twilight pressing down from all angles. The Slytherin common room would probably be packed with celebrating students. Jack would no doubt be drunk off his ass.  
  
Mumbling the password to the stone wall, he slouched into the oddly quiet common room, heading straight for the armchairs. The place, tinged in its usual green light, was suspiciously empty. Except for a person sitting quietly with a book in Albus’s usual chair. They looked up briefly, meeting Albus’s gaze. The familiar glint of a steely blue eye. Scorpius.

Albus looked away immediately. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling slightly choked. This was the first time he had seen Scorpius, alone, in weeks.

“I, uh--”

“So--”

They spoke together, stopping in unison as well. The tension between them was airtight, clearly palpable in the two-foot space between them. Scorpius got to his feet, putting his book down with a thud.

“I’ll go, then, if you’d like your chair back?”

“You don’t—” but Scorpius was already moving. He brushed past Albus with a strange intensity. Their backs were turned to each other, but the nervous strain in the air persisted.

“Albus," Scorpius began, entirely out of the blue. Al noticed with a start that it was the first time in a while his best friend hadn't stuttered his name.

A wave of something rather unfamiliar washed over Albus. The onslaught of anger and hostility that had been colouring his mind the last few days drew back, and the reality of how much he’d missed his best friend crept into his mind. He turned around and lay a gentle hand on Scorpius's unmoving shoulder.

The other boy drew in a sharp breath. For a moment, Albus thought he might start laughing. Or crying. He was unprepared to deal with either of those scenarios, and had half a mind to say something else. Uncertainty dangled in the back of his mind as he weighed his options, considering how bad it would really be if he just made a run for it right then.

Scorpius turned on his heel suddenly, his bright eyes momentarily piercing Albus’s in a steady gaze. And before either boy knew what was happening, he strode forward and kissed Albus full on the mouth.

For a second, Albus was disoriented. He had expected this conversation to go one of a few ways, and this, of all things, had not been in his predicted outcomes. Directions blurred and shapes faded into the background until all that existed around him was…Scorpius. The person who had given up a kingdom for him. The smell of fresh parchment and summer lemons, and the feeling of winter-chapped lips pressing against his overtook his every sense. It all clicked at once. He leaned into him and kissed back with vigour, like there was no more time to waste.

His hands, seemingly moving of their own accord, entangled themselves in the pale hair in front of him. Scorpius’s fingers were everywhere: the back of Albus’s neck, the sides of his face, the skin on his lower back, exposed just barely beneath the hem of his shirt. It was impossible to tell who was pulling who closer, only that they were pressed together so tightly they seemed to melt into one another. Their mouths crashed together, moving in synchrony, aligned and shifting like nothing he had ever felt before. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and the only thought Albus could muster to his wildly flashing brain was more.

It was over just as it began. In a flash; a heartbeat. They wrenched apart, panting and alive with more emotions than it felt possible to feel at once. The wire that had seemingly been pulling them closer and closer since they met at eleven years old in a train compartment had suddenly snapped, only to be replaced by a new one of a different sort. Out of the corner of his eye, Albus saw Scorpius touch his lip softly, as if he couldn't really believe it was still there.

It was inhumanly quiet. Albus's breath came hard and fast. A ringing had started up in his ears, almost blurring the lines between reality and what had just happened. Words failed him as he resorted to waiting for the other boy to say something. Anything, really. Even a proclamation of hatred and regret would be better than the silence that pressed around them now.

"So," Scorpius cleared his throat, turning slightly back toward his dark haired friend. "Was that b-better than Delphi, then?"

Another beat of silence.

Albus burst into laughter.

It was the strangest thing. There had rarely been a time in Albus's life when he wasn't aware of his own emotions. But there was too much in the air between them for him to comprehend. So much so, that all he could do was laugh. Laugh at the joke his best friend made.

Scorpius, his puzzled face twisting into a grin, began to chuckle alongside him. There they stood in their common room, alone except for the quiet crackle of the fireplace, laughing their asses off. It occurred to both that the joke wasn't actually that funny, and yet the alternative to laughing in that moment seemed much more terrifying. So they carried on.

It quieted after a while, the mirthful lilt of their laughter fading back into uncomfortable silence. Scorpius rubbed the back of his neck. Albus stared at his feet. Neither of them knew how to bridge whatever strange gap had suddenly appeared between them. Neither of them knew how to feel. Awkward wasn’t the word. The friendship they shared couldn’t be awkward at this point. It was just…different. And Albus wasn’t quite sure how he felt about this difference.

Just as he was opening his mouth to say something he hadn't quite figured out yet, the common room door slid open. Scorpius’s head snapped up, and both boys watched in echoed horror as the entirety of the Slytherin house stumbled in in drunken vigour.

 _Shit_ , thought Albus.

“Oh, Christ,” said Scorpius.


	7. Lights, Camera...

The exclamation had slipped from Scorpius’s mouth before he even had time to think. He clamped his mouth shut, his hands glued to his sides with terror. A few of his housemates shot him quizzical looks, but it appeared the majority of them hadn’t heard him. None of them seemed to detect the charged energy in the room. Good. That was good.

Scorpius felt like he was going to throw up. His cheeks, the back of his neck, and the tips of his ears felt hot, a clear sign that they were no doubt bright red. He dared not chance a look at Albus. As hard as it was for him to admit, he was afraid of what he might see on his best friend’s face. Horror. Disgust. Regret. The countless possibilities were enough to keep his eyes focused straight ahead.

Jack charged in, leading the pack of Slytherins and fueled by a fulfilled ego and a little too much firewhiskey. He spotted Scorpius and Albus standing awkwardly several feet apart, and his smile perked up.

“Lads!” He yelped, “where’ve you been? What a night, boys, I can’t believe you missed it.” He paused, catching his breath, and surveyed the other two. His brow furrowed.

“Are you two speaking again?”

There was another silence. Scorpius could feel Albus’s eyes on the side of his face, but he didn’t turn.

“Yeah,” Albus said quickly, “I suppose you could say that.”

“Oh bloody brilliant!” Jack grinned, “finally! I’ve had enough of Albus grumbling about his life all day. Let Scorpius have his turn again.” He clapped both boys on the back and yawned deeply, looking at them with a bemused smile on his face.

“It’s quite late,” he said suddenly, looking around at the steadily emptying common room. “I think I’ll…erm, head to bed,” he winked, pushing his hair out of his eyes and following after a group of happily laughing students. “Don’t stay up too late!” He hurried away, looping an arm around two girls lagging behind the group and whispering something in one of their ears. Scorpius rolled his eyes, momentarily forgetting that he was again alone in the common room with his best friend. His best friend…who he had just kissed.  

He shifted, finally, and snuck a look out of the corner of his eye. Thankfully, Albus didn’t look as if he thought he’d just made the worst mistake of his life. In fact, he looked exactly how Scorpius felt. Confused. Scorpius took a deep breath.

“Should we...?” He began, trailing off before he could finish his question.

“Talk about it?” Albus met his gaze. Both swallowed uncomfortably. “Merlin, Scorpius, I dunno.”

“Maybe…” he stopped again, squeezing his eyes shut, “maybe we should just go to bed. We can talk about it in the morning, when we’re more…awake.”

“Yeah,” Albus nodded enthusiastically, “okay. Sure. Good idea.” He turned, almost a little too quickly, and moved toward the stairs. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight,” Scorpius echoed, but the room was already empty. He inhaled deeply, held his breath for a spell, and let it out. His eyes drifted back toward the armchair by the fire. Not fifteen minutes before, he’d been sitting there pretending to read and thinking (again) about Albus. About his hands, and his hair, and his stupidly, ridiculously green eyes. He had thought these things a million times. They were just thoughts, nothing that particularly startled him.

He had never realized that these weren’t things you thought about someone who was just your friend. It had never occurred to him that seeing Albus kiss his girlfriend was supposed to make him jealous of Albus, not Pandora. In fact, none of it had registered as out of the ordinary until Albus touched his shoulder and all the anger and hostility faded immediately from his mind. Every piece of logic and reason went out the window. He had done what felt right, and if he was fated to suffer for it…well, so be it.

Scorpius stooped to pick up his book, tucked it under his arm, and climbed the steps to the dormitory. Tomorrow, things would be different. But today, as he slipped between the sheets of his four-poster bed, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

~

The last time Albus had slept this poorly was the night he found out his mother was sick.

He tossed and turned all night, his eyes growing heavier and more strained with every minute that passed. Interspersed between brief, heavenly moments of sleep were long patches with nothing to do but think. He found himself constantly ending up on his side, looking through a crack in the curtains on Scorpius’s bed. The Slytherin dormitories were the highest elevated point in the dungeons, and the only rooms in the lower part of the castle with windows above ground. Pure, untinged moonlight filtered in through the glass and cast a shadow across their half of the room. It hit Scorpius’s pillow, colouring his hair in shades of white gold. Albus blinked slowly, his chest rising and falling. Perhaps the scariest part of it all was that he remembered exactly how that hair felt through his fingers. And he liked that feeling.

For a long while now, Albus had thought he knew what it felt like to kiss someone he cared about passionately. But the fact slowly settling in his brain now was that he hadn’t had a bloody clue. Kissing Pandora was completely different from kissing Scorpius in the best way possible. There was no awkwardness in kissing Scorpius, and no time to think about anything but him.  It was a feeling like nothing he had words for. But this, obviously, brought about many questions Albus didn’t have answers to.

First and foremost: was he gay?

He knew the gay people in his house; they were all friends with each other. They had always been kind, and Albus had never held anything against them for their sexuality. He wasn’t raised that way. But all of them just seemed so…open. Not in a bad way, just in a way Albus knew wasn’t compatible with his personality. And anyway, he didn’t think he _could_ be gay. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t think girls were pretty, and he certainly enjoyed being in a relationship with Pandora. So “gay” was off the table. But if he wasn’t that…what was the alternative? A term a drunken James had told him about; bisexuality? The wizarding world had just barely come around to the idea of same sex marriage, and even that was still a touchy subject.

Then there was the matter of his family. He knew they would be supportive (his mother had had the “talk” with him briefly two summers before) but how was he meant to come to terms with something that half of his community didn’t believe existed?

And, Merlin’s beard, what on _earth_ was he supposed to say to Pandora?

It was all too much for him. His entire body felt like lead, and he thanked Dumbledore that tomorrow was Sunday and he had time to sleep in. Pushing all of his invasive thoughts from his mind, he shut his eyes tightly and willed sleep to come. He was beginning to convince himself that everything was going to be just fine. After all, he saved the world from the return of the Dark Lord. How hard could _this_ be?

~

Rose, wrapped tightly in her cloak and with several Gryffindor scarves wrapped around her neck, was hard at work long before sunrise the next morning.

She sat in the highest stand overlooking the Quidditch pitch, her quill moving furiously over the empty map of the field she held in her gloved hand. Every now and then, she paused for a moment, her lips moving silently as she tried to figure out how to piece her thoughts together. And then she was right back at it, scribbling up a storm.

That game—awful, ridiculous, embarrassing, terrible—had been one of the worst of her life. She had landed at the end of it and stormed immediately away, tucking herself at the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest where no one would find her. The determination she had harvested there woke her up early on Sunday morning, and she had headed immediately down to the field. There was no way in _hell_ she was going to face a defeat like that again.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind her.

She snapped around, her ponytail swinging and a few strands of hair coming loose. Jamie stood at the entrance to the stands, a mug of coffee in his hand and an uncomfortable expression on his face. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink from the early morning cold, and the freshly risen sun made his hair glow. Rose felt her heart flutter a little.

“Oh, erm, hi,” she said, scrambling to collect herself and her papers. She and Jamie had been civil and friendly for the last month since their…whatever you call it. But they hadn’t been alone.

“I didn’t think you’d be here this early,” he mumbled, “sometimes—after we lose—I come up here the next morning to, uh, think, I guess.” He offered her a half smile, “want some company?”

“Sure,” she said, composing herself, “that would be lovely.”

He loped forward, collapsing roughly onto the space next to her on the bench. Rose avoided eye contact, staring awkwardly at her maps and notes.

“Are you strategizing already?” Jamie laughed incredulously.

“I’m Quidditch captain,” Rose said matter-of-factly, “I have to be prepared. For the team.”

“Burke and the Slytherins spent all last night partying and celebrating,” Jamie added, “you don’t see them preparing.”

“They don’t have to. They won.”

“A fluke win.”

“Yes, but a win no less.”

Jamie mulled this over for a moment. Rose pursed her lips and brought her quill out again. Jamie had a peculiar way of getting under her skin in exactly the right way. He knew just how to push her buttons, sometimes even unintentionally.

“You know it isn’t your fault,” he remarked finally.

“Of course it isn’t my fault,” said Rose, still not looking up.

“Rose,” he said in a low voice, “look at me a moment.”

Reluctantly, she glanced up. His eyes met hers and a familiar zing bounced its way through her heart and all her nerve endings. She swallowed her breath.

“This is not your fault.”

She knew that. Of course she knew that. Just like any win was a team effort, so was any loss. There were things everyone did that cost them the match, and there were things all of them could improve on. But that wasn’t how she felt. How it felt to lose as captain, knowing you could have done more, was one of the worst things she’d ever experienced. Every flaw was scrutinized one hundred times over, and all of them were like a punch in the stomach. She had let her confidence get the better of her. It wouldn’t happen again.

“It’s not my fault,” she breathed, still looking at him. His hand shifted a little, and his pinky brushed hers. She closed her mouth.

He looked away eventually, breaking whatever metaphorical spell had engulfed them in those few moments. He moved his hand away as Rose closed her eyes tightly, shooing any non-Quidditch related thoughts away. She didn’t have time to go round and round in circles with Jamie. She couldn’t play his games anymore.

They stayed there, silently on top of the stands, until the sun rose fully and the grounds were swept in December light. And then they stood, and walked together back to the castle. He didn’t touch her again.

~

The dormitory was empty when Albus woke up, and he pulled on jeans and a sweater alone and in silence. He took his time, not knowing exactly what to expect when he got to the Great Hall.

He walked slower than usual, taking smaller steps and looking out the windows as he passed them. The grounds were so beautiful this time of year, in the few days before it was due to start snowing. He never took nearly enough time as he should to just stand and look at them.

As he approached the Great Hall, he slowed even more. The expectant weight behind his footsteps made him want to turn around and sprint in the opposite direction. But that was ridiculous. He had to face his feelings.

Bracing himself, he rounded the corner and stepped inside the Hall, his eyes immediately searching for Scorpius.

And there he was, chatting to a fourth year girl like he didn’t have a care in the world. Albus stood for a moment, content to watch him just be himself for a bit. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him so…relaxed.

Just as he was about to move inside, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Pandora appeared next to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before he had time to do anything. His heart stuttered.

“Hi, Al,” she chorused, “I was thinking…would you maybe want to grab breakfast and take it outside this morning? I don’t feel like sitting away from you.”

Albus’s words caught in his throat. He had rehearsed several speeches in his head during his fitful night. One for every scenario that could potentially happen.  But the moment he had seen his girlfriend, all of the possible things he could say fled from his mind. What was he doing? Scorpius was his best friend; this couldn’t happen! It couldn’t. And Pandora…she was good. She was safe. She was exactly what he needed right now, and how could he give that up when it had just begun?

The decision he was going to make landed in his head even before he knew he was going to make it. He swallowed the considerable weight of his doubt, shoved a pillow over his clamoring heart, and grabbed Pandora’s hand.

He saw Scorpius’s face out of the corner of his eye before anything else. The other boy had never been good at hiding his feelings. He was half out of his seat, no doubt ready to pull Albus aside and tell him something. Albus didn’t want to think about what.

Now, Scorpius lowered himself back into his chair robotically, his shocked face invading every spot in Albus’s vision. Albus had no choice but to look away. Pandora was talking, but he couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. They walked out of the Great Hall, down the stairs, and out onto the grounds. All the while, Albus felt like someone had shattered a plate in the pit of his stomach.  Every time he blinked, the image projected on his eyelids was the same.

Scorpius’s face.

Over and over.


	8. Hopeful

Scorpius waited until he was well out of earshot from anyone in the castle to let the full force of what had just happened hit him. Tears were rolling down his cheeks before he even had time to process. He slid immediately to the floor with his back against the stone wall, a panicked sob escaping his lips. He hurriedly clamped a hand down over his mouth as his chest heaved and nausea grew in his stomach.

He had allowed himself—so bloody _stupidly_ —to believe that things would turn out well this time. To think that God or some ridiculous otherworldly being was finally smiling down upon him. Happiness had evaded him for so long that even a mere taste of the possibility of it was enough to blow all of his emotions and thoughts out of proportion. He had thrown caution to the wind and reason out the window, and, lo and behold: nothing changed _._ He was still exactly the same boy he’d been before; alone and disappointed and wishing he had never bothered with hope.

Hope. None of this was Albus’s fault; not really. It wasn’t Pandora’s either. The blame was to be placed entirely on Scorpius’s shoulders, and he deserved every ounce of it. It was his fault that he’d held out hope for a few measly seconds. What had hope ever gotten him? He had hoped he would stop getting shoved into walls and he had hoped he would make friends in his fifth year. He had hoped Albus would pick him, he had hoped his mother wouldn’t die. And each and every time he was left disappointed. He didn’t even know how he could be surprised anymore.

Scorpius stayed there for a while. In that corridor. His sobs weakened and then subsided, and slowly but surely his hands stopped shaking. He wiped his eyes and tried to take long, deep, slow breaths. And then he picked himself up off the floor and walked back to the common room.

It was quiet, naturally. Everyone was either still sleeping or out enjoying the last few days of clear, chilly skies before snow descended upon the castle. It was a remarkably beautiful time of year, yet Scorpius found he could not care less. He mounted the steps to the dormitory and ducked into the washroom, locking the door behind him.

He stared at himself in the mirror. His face was gaunt. It looked hollow and carved out, like a mask cut from marble. And it was pale too, paler than usual. He looked like a man who’d seen too much. He looked tired, but determined. He looked, he realized with a start, just like his father.

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose tightly and let a wave of nausea roll over him. His father was not the last person he wanted to become, but he certainly wasn’t the first in line either. Scorpius took in the rest of himself in the mirror, every piece he had meticulously examined before he left for the Great Hall. Every portion of his body he had tried to make look its best. All for hope. All for nothing.

The tears itched at the back of his eyeballs again. He shoved them down and moped back into the dormitory, clambering back under his bedsheets and shutting the curtains with finality. He buried his head in his pillow and guided his mind away from the events of the morning, toward anything else.

To his surprise, what first drifted into his mind was an image from his childhood. When he was young, six or seven, Malfoy Manor had been overcome by gnomes. The solution? Astoria had convinced her husband to get a crup.

Crups, Scorpius had learned that summer, were animals bred by wizards. They were fiercely loyal to their owners, and had a significant distaste for muggles. They excelled at catching gnomes. And they just so happened to be almost identical to a Jack Russell terrier, a fact that excited both Scorpius and his mother a great deal.

The crup (which Scorpius affectionately named Pickle the moment he saw him) slept at the foot of Scorpius’s bed every night. They want on walks through the garden together and played fetch with an old sock. Every waking moment of his life was spent with Pickle.

Then Pickle died. At the age of two. And Scorpius learned for the first time how much life could disappoint you. And how much it would continue to disappoint him. And how there was nothing he, or anyone he loved, could do about it.

He sat up. That was it. He was through with this pitiful existence. He was through with having every solid piece of him broken. Time and time again Scorpius had held onto the belief that something was going to save him, and that one day the tables would turn. Fate had never been good to him, and at last he was beginning to realize that there was no way out of this hole unless he built the ladder himself. No one was going to kiss him on the forehead and make it better, this was his own doing and it was up to him to pick up his broken pieces and sew them back together. Needle and thread. One fragment at a time.

Not for one more moment would he be the victim. This was not the man his mother would have wanted him to become. He had to be strong, if not for himself, then for her.

For many years to come, Scorpius would recount this moment as one of the defining turning points in his life. There had been others, and there would be others. Deaths. Loves. Great adventures. But the day Scorpius Malfoy threw the covers off his bed, got up, and faced the world despite the steady ache in his heart was the day he—really, truly, finally—grew up. 

~ 

Lily desperately wanted nothing more than to bury herself into a hole of blankets and pillows and never emerge from it ever again for as long as she lived. Unfortunately for her, no one else seemed to echo her feelings.

“Up you get!” Rose called, flipping the curtains open and yanking the bedsheets off Lily’s warm, coddled body. She buried her face in her pillow, partly because she didn’t want to get up, and partly because she didn’t want anyone to see how swollen her eyes were.

“You can’t mope forever, Lil, get out of bed!” Rose’s shrill voice came again.

“Oh, but I haven’t moped at all!” Lily cried indignantly, “let me mope!”

She felt the mattress compress and shift as Rose sat down on the end of the bed. She lay a hand on Lily’s shoulder in a comfortable, motherly way and Lily felt the lump in her throat grow.

“Lily,” she whispered, nudging her a little bit, “look at me for a second.”

Fighting the urge to groan and throw herself to the floor, Lily looked up at her cousin and swallowed a tremendous sigh.

“That game,” said Rose, “was not your fault. Repeat it.”

“That game was not your fault,” muttered Lily.

“Lily! I know it wasn’t _my_ fault, I want to hear you say you know it wasn’t not _your_ fault.”

“Fine!” She sat up, flicking her red hair out of her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest, “it wasn’t my fault. Happy?”

“Quite! Now get up!”

Groaning again, Lily swung her legs over the side of her bed and launched herself to her feet. Rose looked on approvingly, taking her by the arm and guiding her toward the bathroom. Apparently, all Lily needed to feel better was a “nice warm shower” and “some breakfast”. Lily felt like a sleeping draught might be more in order.

The warm water in the shower _was_ nice, though. She felt her muscles decompress, and the strain in her neck start to fade away. She worked her fingers through a knot in her back, feeling the pain ease and lift off. By the time she turned the water off, her damp hair smelling like ambrosia, she felt a world better.

Rose was waiting for her when she got out. The two walked arm in arm together toward the Great Hall, Rose chattering on and on about this and that. She was remarkably chipper, Lily observed. Usually the days after a bad game were spent with Rose in a furious stomping rage, toiling about the castle with her head buried in a strategy or potions book and refusing to do anything but practice and practice some more.

They ran into Albus on their walk. He stood awkwardly next to Pandora, and the look on his face was almost…contorted and pained. He looked as if he would rather be anywhere else in the world. Lily raised her brows and waved a hand at him. Upon seeing his sister and cousin walking toward him, he perked up considerably.

“Lily,” he said, striding forward.

“Yes, yes, I know,” she sighed as he approached, “the one game you come to see I mess up royally. I’m sorry, Al, I—”

Before she could say another word, Albus had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a massive hug. Lily’s eyebrows shot up again, her hands flailing about, not knowing what to do with herself. Albus didn’t let go. Tentatively, she rested her head lightly on her older brother’s shoulder. She and him and never had a particularly close relationship, and even at the times when they had, he’d never hugged her. James was the friendly and huggable one. But she supposed Albus, her brooding and quiet brother, was the one who was always silently there for her.

“You were great,” he muttered, pulling away after a beat, “don’t worry about it.”

Lily was at a loss for words. She smiled quizzically at him as he drew back, biting his lip slightly and looking to Pandora (whose brows were also raised).

“Well,” Rose said happily, “are you two joining us for breakfast?”

“We’ve already eaten,” Pandora said, not taking her eyes off Albus, “but thanks for the offer.”

“No problem!” Rose grinned, taking Lily’s arm again, “off we go, then, Lil. Nice to see you both.” She whisked them away, her mindless gossip resuming again without missing a beat. This was entirely unlike Rose, and Lily had to admit it was a bit…well, for lack of a better word, weird. But her brain refused to focus on the strange behavior of her cousin, and instead was stuck thinking about her brother. Albus had just looked so _sad_. So completely, irrevocably broken for a moment before he saw her. It was a look Lily couldn’t shake. The face of someone who had lost everything.

And the worst part was, she couldn’t seem to figure out why. Albus had confided in her more than ever for the two weeks their mother had been sick. But all of his problems at the time—missing Scorpius and Pandora, falling behind on his assignments, worrying about Ginny—seemed to have simple solutions once he returned to the castle. There wasn’t a plausible reason she could think of that could explain the hopeless look on his face.

But it was there. The look. And try as she might, Lily couldn’t seem to distract herself enough to forget about it.

~ 

It took Albus Potter exactly four minutes and thirty-six seconds to realize his mistake.

The breakfast Pandora had stealthily stowed away in her bag was no doubt delicious. Cinnamon buns and hard boiled eggs and apples and flasks of pumpkin juice, all of it spread out in front of them on the damp grass. But Albus could barely stomach any of it. He forced it down with a smile on his face and tried (Merlin, did he try) to engage in a conversation with Pandora about Nargles. But each time he found himself getting sucked into the conversation, Scorpius popped back into his mind.

He was a sad, scared, vulnerable and volatile person, and he had learned this about himself in the hardest way possible. But somehow the knowledge hadn’t seemed to really have seeped into his brain. It couldn’t have. After all, he kept making the same stupid, reckless, spur of the moment decisions. And now he’d lost his best friend because of it.

Lost his best friend. The words floated through his brain with jagged edges. That’s what had happened, though, and he had to admit it to himself. Seeing Lily afterward in the corridor didn’t help either. In fact, it almost set him over the edge. Albus had noticed first how completely normal she looked. Strolling down for breakfast with her cousin by her side. And, shamefully, he envied her. The life she led and all its simplicities seemed to him like the perfect existence. Merlin, her biggest problem was _Quidditch._

He was never going to come back from this, Albus realized with a start. He had hurt Scorpius one too many times, and now there was nothing he could do about it. How many times had he taken his best friend for granted? A constant companion, there for him no matter what. Even when his father had tried to forcefully separate them, something inside him kept hope. That hope was gone now. He was stuck in this mindless path he had laid out for himself, and he knew it.

“Albus.”

The spell broke like a vacuum seal, and Albus was back in reality, standing next to Pandora in the middle of a corridor. He looked down at her, his eyes blinking rapidly. She looked angry. Really angry.

“What was the last thing I said?” She asked, crossing her arms and tapping her foot incessantly.

“Erm,” Albus hesitated, his heart beat speeding up, “something about…Nargles…?”

“I knew it!” She exploded, making Albus jump a little, “you don’t listen to me! You never listen to me! God, you are such a terrible boyfriend, Al. I don’t mean to sound terrible, but it’s the truth. And I really, really like you—who knows, maybe even love you—”

This earned a bug-eyed gawk from Albus.

“—but I can’t go on like this! This isn’t how you’re supposed to treat a girl! You know, there are so many boys who would kill to be in your position. Do you know how many people asked me to the Summer Ball last year? Twenty-two, Al, and _five of them were girls_. I honestly don’t understand how you—”

“Oh, for Dumbledore’s sake, Pandora, would you just shut up and bugger off?” Albus burst out.

Everything went instantly quiet.

Pandora’s mouth dropped open, gaping at words she couldn’t quite reach. Albus had the urge to clap a hand over his mouth, and another simultaneous urge to keep screaming. He was fed up. Absolutely finished with being angry and stupid all the time. He had known, since the night before, that this was what he wanted. But he had been blinded by fear and acted through the lens of his terror. No longer. He was finally doing what he wanted to do, and nothing had ever felt better.

“I think we should break up,” said Albus quietly, meeting her eyes in a more confident gaze than he had for the entire duration of their relationship.

“Yes,” Pandora hissed coldly, “I think that would be wise. Don’t bother ever speaking to me ever again, Albus. You had your chance. You blew it. Have a great life.” She turned on her heel and strutted away, her nose held high in the air.

For a moment, Albus didn’t know what to do. He was elated on a high of doing what was right, and what was best for him. A thousand seconds seem to pass within the space of one.

He took off at a run. Liberated as he was, there was one thing he needed to do before anything else. He needed to find Scorpius before it was too late to repair the damaged he had caused only a few hours ago.

The first place he could think of was the library. He very nearly tripped over his own feet as he stumbled into the gilded doors, immediately earning a death stare from the librarian. He muttered an apology and slunk by her, jogging through the shelves of books one by one. Each row that passed without Scorpius was a small blow, but not enough to make him lose hope 

Abandoning the library with no trace of his best friend, he hustled his way to the common room, taking the steps two at a time. He thought of the stories he’d heard in the Muggle papers of mothers lifting impossibly heavy objects off their babies in surges of something superhuman. That was how he felt now. It was more than magic. 

He gasped the password to the common room entrance and squeezed through the gap before it even had time to open fully. He swept past the fireplace, through a small green-tinged hallway and up the stairs, charging into the common room.

And there he was. Sitting by the window, Alice perched on his shoulder, and a book resting in his lap. In the brief seconds before Scorpius could tear his eyes away from the page (a habit Albus had always admired) he looked so remarkably peaceful. It barely registered as strange that his emotionally turbulent best friend could be so calm in the wake of the events of the morning. He was by the window in one second flat.

“I have to tell you something,” he breathed out, pausing to catch his breath.

Scorpius shut his book and removed his owl from his shoulder, quietly tucking her back into her cage. She gave an indignant hoot, but the other boy didn’t seem to mind. He locked the cage and sat back against the window, looking up at Albus finally.

The look Scorpius gave Albus just then was almost unrecognizable. His eyes were ice; cold, steely blue. His face was set into hardened lines. It seemed almost as if he’d aged five years in the span of an hour. Gone was the child and there, seated in front of him, was the adult. And that terrified Albus. 

“Don’t mention it,” he said carefully, with the air of someone who was choosing each and every word with thought, “the past is in the past. I’ve moved on.” He paused here for a moment, letting his words sink in. “You should too.” 

“No, listen for a second,” said Albus desperately, “I—”

“Albus, I said we shouldn’t talk about it.” Scorpius said sharply, “just…forget it. We’re still friends. Everything is just like it was before. Now, I really have to read this before History of Magic tomorrow, but I’ll see you at dinner.” And that was that. The end of the conversation. Scorpius settled back into his seat, picked up his book, and did not look at the other boy again.

There were a lot of feelings Albus thought he had felt before Scorpius. One of the was pain. But like a great many other things, he was beginning to realize that a lot of the things he thought he knew, he didn't really know it all.

“Consider it forgotten,” he said in one breath, choking the words out though his tongue felt like it was tied in knots. And then he turned and left the dormitory. Neither of them looked back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry this took so long, Christmas is a very stressful time of year! Consider this a (quite late) gift, next chapter up ASAP! Thanks for reading :)


	9. So It Goes

Albus and Scorpius sat across from each other at the breakfast table in stony silence. The ranging pitches of Jack’s voice filled the morning air, but it was clear neither of them were listening all that much. They were too wrapped up in their own heads.

It had been like this every morning. For the last two weeks. The Christmas holidays were fast approaching at the end of week, and still Albus had yet to break ground with his best friend. Ex-best friend? He didn’t know, really. The title remained, but it didn’t feel like it applied anymore. The two of them barely talked, except when necessary. And when they did converse, it was the calculated and brief speech exchanged between mere acquaintances. In some ways, it was worse than not speaking at all. At least last year he’d known Scorpius wanted to stick around.

Across the room, at the Gryffindor table, Pandora scraped back her chair and got to her feet. A group of girls followed after her. They passed the Slytherin table, none of them glancing at Albus and his friends, but an energy washed over him. Albus had discovered in the last two weeks that the collected anger of a pack of teenage girls was more powerful than any stunning spell.

“You’re not going with Pandora?”

Albus looked over, his eyebrows shooting up. Scorpius had exerted a lot of effort into keeping himself as distant from Albus as possible, and hearing him speak now was more shocking than he’d imagined.

“No,” he said quizzically, “we broke up.”

Something flickered behind Scorpius’s downturned eyes. Albus hadn’t been quite sure if the other boy knew about the breakup. He himself certainly hadn’t told him, but he had expected someone else would have. Albus willed the other boy to speak, and he looked like he was about to. But he shoved a piece of toast into his mouth instead.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, through a mouthful of peanut butter.

_“No, you’re not,”_ Albus wanted to scream, _“you’re not sorry. You’re happy. You’re happy we broke up because_ you _want to be with_ me _and you’re just too_ bloody stubborn _to admit it._ ”

“Thanks,” he said instead.

All of a sudden, the steely atmosphere at their end of the table became too much for Albus. He got to his feet, almost toppling his chair in his haste. Jack looked up, clearly surprised that whatever stupid story he’d been telling had been interrupted.

“What’re you doing, mate?” He asked quizzically, his brows disappearing beneath his hair line.

Albus mumbled something about “getting air” and hurried from the Hall without another word. He stumbled down the corridor, ducking underneath a wreath and pushing out the massive oak double doors.

The cold air hit him like a wall. He had forgotten his cloak inside, and the freezing temperatures bit against his skin. It was oddly refreshing, in a way. He felt a little more human than he had in the last fortnight altogether. Pulling his shirtsleeves down underneath his robes, he wrapped his arms around himself and walked down the snow-covered slope.

He had been doing a lot of walking lately. It was nice. Cleared his head. With all the commotion of the last few weeks of school, coupled with the stabbing pain he felt every time he looked at Scorpius, things were a bit too much at times. It helped to be by himself, away from the intensity and pressing matters that were confined within the walls of the castle.

Down by the lake, Albus started on the path he had been meandering for the last few days of his walks. The shallow embankment was piled with snow, and Albus had magicked himself a clear walkway when he first arrived. It was usually deserted, especially at this time in the morning. Occasionally, Albus would see a couple eagerly engaged by the shore, but the occurrences were becoming less and less frequent as the winter got colder.

As he walked, he began to notice something odd about the route. Footprints, long and distinctly male, tracked along the road ahead of him. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon to have other students walk by the lake, but it had just stopped snowing a few minutes before. It was unlikely that any student had come by in that time to take a walk, and especially odd that they were alone.

He ignored it, putting aside his restless mind and chalking it up to stress and exhaustion. He was, in a sense, spreading himself too thin. Perhaps it was time to start going to bed earlier.

Just as he was about to listen to the irregular feeling that had manifested in his gut and turn around, he spied a tendril of something odd, slimy, and dark green sticking out from behind a snowbank. It looked like a coil of seaweed, not unusual for the shores of a lake, but something about it made Albus want to investigate further. 

He approached the snowbank and saw not one, but several of the odd looking pieces. Nearing further, he began to see that they were attached together. No, not attached together. Attached to something else. His heart beat loudly in his throat as he peered closer, his eyes travelling up the strands and locking on the thing they were attached to.

A head. It was a head. With greyish skin. The eyes on the face were open, staring wide into the sky with yellow pupils and its mouth slightly ajar. A thick rope of pebbles was knotted around the thing’s neck, and Albus saw that its body continued down, down, down…into a tail. Albus realized in one fluid second that the seaweed was not, in fact, seaweed. It was _hair._ And the monstrous (clearly dead) thing lying in front of him was not human. It was a merperson.

He stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet and feeling bile rise up the back of his throat: hot and demanding his immediate attention. The image of the dead mermaid was seared onto his eyelids as he turned on his heel and broke out into a run. He slipped several times as he sprinted up the slope, his elegant school shoes not accustomed to the unreliable footing. He had to stop, momentarily, to retch into the crystalline white fluff before continuing back to the castle. He ran and ran and ran, all the way to Professor McGonagall’s office without stopping once to catch his breath.

It occurred to him, once he’d arrived, that he didn’t actually know the password to get up into the office. He stared at the gargoyle insistently, willing it desperately to open. It did no such thing, of course, and Albus felt panic rise in his chest again.

But before he could do or say anything else, a piece of his mind slipped away like a cat with its tail between its legs. And suddenly, he was falling to the ground. And suddenly, everything was black.

~

Lily burst through the common room, Rose at her heels, and her legs moving faster than ever before. She dodged first years spread across the carpet and a tall boy trying to transfigure his tea cup before clambering out and past the Fat Lady.

“Where are you two off in such a hurry?” She called after them, “late for breakfast again, Miss Potter? I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Neither girl paid attention to the portrait, flying past without as much as a second thought. The bottom of the staircase began to shift as they neared, and Lily willed her legs to sprint faster. She launched herself off the platform and stumbled onto the bottom half just as it began to move. Rose let out a shriek from behind her. Lily caught her footing, and her breath, and then she was off again.

The morning had, of course, not gone as she’d expected. The last Monday before Christmas break, and she had woken up with the scent of gingerbread in her nose. Those first few seconds had been luxurious; comfortable and relaxed. And then Rose burst in, her hair flying wildly behind her, and delivered the news. Lily could only remember snippets.

“Albus—”

“…fainted outside the—”

“McGonagall’s with him now.”

She scrambled out of bed, throwing on a dressing gown and lacing up her shoes as fast as she could. Rose followed after her wordlessly, a silent understanding of where they were going locked between them.

Now, Lily stood outside the Headmistress’s office and waited for Rose to catch up. She paced back and forth, having just realized that she did not, in fact, have the password. Lily was athletic, friendly, and a good leader. She was not, however, anywhere near smart enough to figure out what Professor McGonagall would use as a password.

“Lily!” Rose arrived, panting a little. Her hair was in even more disarray than it had been minutes before in the common room. She stopped to catch her breath before straightening up and tucking a wayward strand behind her ear.

“I can’t figure out the password,” Lily said quietly, her bottom lip beginning to tremble. Hadn’t she had enough this year? First, her mother. Then, that Quidditch game. Now, her big brother. This was a lifetime’s worth of misfortune packed into the space of a few months.

“Oh,” Rose said, taking a short step forward, “erm, _cauldron cake_?”

To their surprise, the gargoyle guarding the entrance squirmed and then hopped aside, exposing the spiral staircase leading up into the office. Lily stared at her cousin in awe.

“How did you…?”

“They’re her favourite sweet,” Rose said sheepishly, “Mum packs them in with my luggage every year to give to her. Apparently she’s absolutely mad for them.”

“I guess so,” grinned Lily, momentarily forgetting where she was and why she was there. The smile faded from her face as she moved into the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. Both girls burst into the office in the same moment, adrenaline pumping through their blood.

Lily saw McGonagall first. Her eyes flitted from the Headmistress, to James, to Madame Pomfrey, to Fawkes, before finally landing on the crumpled shape lying haphazardly across the sofa in the middle of the room.

Albus.

“Miss Potter and Miss Granger-Weasley,” Professor McGonagall raised a brow, “why am I not surprised?”

“What happened to him?” Lily asked, striding forward to stand next to where James leaned down over their brother. She brushed her hand lightly across his cheek. His face was freezing, and his skin paler than she’d ever seen it. But despite it all, the evidence of breathing in his torso brought some semblance of peace to her mind.

“He’s had a nasty shock,” explained Madame Pomfrey, “he’ll be fine as soon as he wakes up.”

“Shock?” Rose questioned from behind Lily, making her jump.

“Yes,” said Professor McGonagall, “what exactly the shock was, we are not sure. However, I am confident that Mr. Potter will be able to explain everything upon his eventual revival.”

“How long is “‘eventual’?” Lily choked, worry once again creeping its way up into her brain.

“Shouldn’t be more than half an hour now, if my draught does what it’s supposed to,” Madame Pomfrey was busily packing her things away now. “Let me know if there’s anything else, Minerva.”

“Of course,” Professor McGonagall said curtly, “thank you, Poppy.”

She nodded, zipping the last of her supplies away into a black dragonhide bag. Lily was so preoccupied with her inspection of her brother that she barely noticed the sound of the door closing behind the matron.

“Now, I think you all ought to go to your classes,” Professor McGonagall advised, “I can assure you that he will be perfectly alright, and you can all visit him in the hospital wing when he wakes up.”

“I’m not leaving him,” James said in a low voice, before either Lily or Rose could protest. Lily could tell her eldest brother was about to say more, but he didn’t have the chance.

All of a sudden, the door flew open. In tumbled Scorpius, a painted watercolour of anxiety and shock. He tripped forward, his blond hair flopping over an eye, and stopped in his tracks. His eyes drifted right over every other person in the room and locked immediately on Albus, lying curled up on the settee. The last remaining bits of colour drained from Scorpius’s face.

“Is he…?” The sentence alone seemed to be too much. He bit his lip, staring pleadingly around like he had just noticed there were other people present.

“He’ll be fine,” grimaced the Headmistress, “and I suppose there isn’t much I could do to make any of you go to your classes. I have some matters to attend to, but I will inform your teachers.” She nodded solemnly and left the group alone in her office. It was a quiet gesture, but one that showed support nonetheless. Though she didn’t often show it, it was obvious that Professor McGonagall held a soft spot in her heart for the Potters and the Granger-Weasleys.

Something hit Lily in the moments after the Headmistress left. It was a peculiar sensation, almost like when she was hit in the stomach by a Beater’s bat at practice in her second year. But there was no bat here. Only a strange pressure in her core and a feeling like the air was compressing around her. She sank a little bit, reaching behind her for something to grab onto and keep herself upright.

“Oh, Merlin,” James muttered under his breath, catching her arm lightly and steadying her. “Are you alright?”

The world seemed to swim before Lily’s eyes. She sniffled, drawing in a huge breath and attempting to do what felt remarkably like keeping her head above water while attached to weights.

“Not quite,” she groaned under her breath

“I don’t think she’s eaten in awhile,” Rose said from somewhere behind them, “maybe we should take her to breakfast? She might feel better after.”

“Probably,” James sighed, “he’ll still be here when we get back, right?”

“Right,” Rose confirmed matter-of-factly.

Lily felt herself being moved, then the ground manifested again beneath her feet. She tripped a little, holding onto her brother’s arm for support. Her head pounded as James guided her carefully toward the door.

They stopped. James cleared his throat.

“Erm...do you...want to come?”

There was a silence. Lily’s entire body felt achey and sore.

“I think I’d better just stay here,” Scorpius’s voice came, high and posh and startlingly clear. There was another pause, and then Lily felt movement again. The closing of a door. She blinked as they descended the stairs. She felt a little better than she had moments ago, but still everything around her seemed to waver. It had truly been quite the morning. There wasn’t much more in the world she was looking forward to than a chocolate muffin in the Great Hall.

~

Scorpius dragged an armchair across the room to the top of the sofa and sat down heavily in it. He watched the rise and fall of Albus’s chest and counted out every regret he had ever had on his fingers one by one. He waited. He observed Albus’s face. The contour of his jawline, the angle of his cheekbone, the small dent in his nose where he had broken it trying to play Quidditch when he was nine or ten. When he had heard, that morning, what had happened, he felt like the space around him pulled back and suddenly he was back in that alternate universe. No Albus by his side. And all the world seemed terribly lonely. In all his life, Scorpius never wanted to feel that again.

Albus stirred. His hands stretched open, searching for something that wasn’t there. Scorpius inhaled sharply, unsure of what to do with himself. It was an odd picture, sitting there and waiting for his friend to wake up. Oh, _Merlin,_ why hadn’t he thought of how strange this looked!?

Before he could move, Albus’s eyelids fluttered and then flew open. He blinked a few times, groggily, before sitting right up and staring Scorpius straight in the face.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Scorpius breathed back.

“My head,” blurted Albus, leaning back against the cushions. “Oh, wow, my head hurts.” He melted a little into the back of his makeshift bed, his hands pressed against his forehead. Somehow, he looked a lot younger than he was. 

“Oh!” He said suddenly, his eyes widening as if he was seeing Scorpius for the first time, “I have so much to tell you.”

“We d-don’t have to talk about this,” Scorpius said suddenly, “just because you got hurt and I came. We don’t have to discuss anything. I-I got the message...on that day. Loud and clear.”

Albus looked puzzled for a moment, and then recognition broke across his face like the shadow of a setting sun. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m glad you came,” he said quietly.

Scorpius felt oddly choked up. It was akin to the feeling of someone shoving a large, bunched up cloth down your throat. Neither air nor words were moving freely. This seemed to have become a common occurrence with Albus in the last few months.

“I’m sorry it’s s-strange between us,” he croaked abruptly, “I don’t know why. I don’t know how to fix it.”

“I—” the other boy stopped. His gaze was piercing. The look in his eyes made Scorpius feel almost as if he was being X-rayed. “I think I’ve figured some things out.”

“Oh?” Scorpius swallowed. A part of him felt like he knew what things Albus had figured out, but he had been there too many times. He wasn’t willing to go back again unless Albus was too.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “yeah, I think I’ve been a massive git. And an idiot. And a terrible best friend.”

“I won’t argue with you there,” Scorpius managed, feeling pleased when a small smile hinted at the corner’s of Albus’s mouth.

“And I think…” he trailed off again, his eyes flicking toward the floor and then back up again, “I think you’re the best person I know. And you make me really happy, Scorp, and I think I should probably start listening to what makes me happy instead of what appears to make sense.  

Scorpius couldn’t figure out if he wanted to look away or not. His brain was chaos, an image of flying papers and sounding the alarm. Regardless of what he wanted, his eyes seemed tethered to Albus’s.

“So, if you’ll have me,” Albus smiled, “I think I’d really like to be with you.”

Scorpius, who had begun to realize that he really ought to start listening to his instincts more often, didn’t leave room for a second thought. He reached forward, his hand resting behind Albus’s neck, and kissed him softly. And Albus kissed back. And it wasn’t all passion and tension like it had been the first time, but it was better. Because this time, there wasn’t anything tumultuous about it. They were just two people, about to try for each other, and starting something they didn’t really know much about.

And, Scorpius thought, somewhere in the back of his mind, so it goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So sorry this took me a long time to write, I felt I had to get the moments right :) Hope you enjoyed!


	10. Discovery Day

Immediately after answering a series of intense questions posed by Ministry officials about the dead creature he had found, Albus was confined to the hospital wing for three days.

Ordinarily, he would have loved it. Being kept far away from where anyone could taunt him, quietly eating his three meals a day and playing exploding snap with himself. But after what had happened on Monday, he found it to be quite infuriating.

For one thing, there wasn’t much to do. No one could visit him until their meal breaks, and so Albus was left to dwell with his own thoughts. He had tried to push what he had seen to the back of his mind, instructing all of his family and Scorpius to stop bringing it up. But no matter how hard he tried, the image crept back into his subconscious, leaving him lying awake and breathing heavily.

And, of course, there was the altogether matter of Scorpius. Early days of a relationship were meant to be happy and spent in close companionship, right? But he barely saw the other boy. Even when they were together, it was rarely alone. Albus’s parents had decided against visiting him in the hospital wing, as he’d be home for break in a few days anyway. But, of course, that didn’t stop James, Lily, and Rose from popping in at all hours, “just to check in!”.

“Good afternoon!”

Albus was lifted from his thoughts by the sound of his best friend’s voice and the door to the hospital wing opening and closing. Scorpius strode from the opposite end of the room to where Albus lay in his white hospital bed.

“Well it is now,” beamed Albus as Scorpius approached. He sat down on the chair next to the bed and began unpacking the bag he had brought with him.

“They had garlic bread today,” he said happily, “I know Madame Pomfrey wanted you on a ‘strict get-better diet’, but it’s your favourite so I figured…” he trailed off, blushing a little.

“Thank you,” Albus smiled, touching the other boy’s hand, “just don’t let our lovely matron see it.”

“Speaking of which,” Scorpius cleared his throat, “is she…?”

“Gone to speak to Professor Sprout,” Albus said, feigning apathy, “for a while, it seems.”

With a familiar grin spreading across his face, Scorpius stealthily glanced both ways before bending down and kissing him quickly, but softly.

It was sweeter than anticipated, and Albus clung to it. They hadn’t had a moment alone without fear of being intruded upon since the day Albus had fainted outside Professor McGonagall’s office. Now, he moved his left hand to cup Scorpius’s cheek, using the other one to pull his sweater gently toward him.

“She could be back at any moment,” Scorpius murmured against his lips. His words were slightly sobering, but not enough to make Albus really care that much.

“Let her come back,” Albus sighed, wrapping his arms around Scorpius’s waist, “let her see. What does it matter, anyway?” He brought his face back to the other boy’s, tugging him a little harder toward the bed. Scorpius seemed almost half-inclined to give in, melting a little into Albus. He steadied himself, palms on either side of Albus on the mattress and leaning in as close as possible. Albus smelled ink and something buttery.

“People will talk.” Scorpius whispered, pulling away but only slightly.

Albus cocked his head, “people rarely do anything else.”

This might have worked, had they been somewhere else. Somewhere more private. But they weren’t. They were in the wide open expanse of the hospital wing, open to the prying eyes of the general public.

“Some other time,” Scorpius said, with an air of finality. He pressed his hands firmly to Albus’s chest and sat back in his seat, surveying him with a look not unlike that of a gazelle narrowly avoiding capture by a lion.

“How was your morning, then?” Albus asked, accepting defeat as he reached for the container of garlic bread that was calling enticingly to him.

“Alright,” he said absent-mindedly, “advanced charms, advanced potions, ancient runes.”

“My head hurts just thinking about it,” Albus muttered. Scorpius smiled, ripping a piece of bread from the tinfoil.

“How about you?”

“More of the same,” Albus sighed, “I transfigured Madame Pomfrey’s hat into a toad.  _ That  _ was a laugh. She was in a right state over it, though. Threatened to take my wand away.”

This brought out a chuckle from Scorpius. He had been doing that a lot, lately. Laughing. Mostly at things that weren’t that funny. In fact, Albus thought he’d heard him laugh more in the last few days than in the full year before. He supposed Scorpius was just happy. The thought made him smile.

“At least we’re going home tomorrow,” Scorpius mused, “granted, you won’t see my glamorous face for three weeks, but at least you’ll be out of the hospital wing.”

“Well then,” Albus arched an eyebrow, “I may as well see as much of your glamorous face as possible now. Commit it to memory.”

Scorpius’s ears went pink, and colour flushed his cheeks. He rolled his eyes in the same way he did every time he was embarrassed to be happy about something. Scorpius appeared to view every one of his pleasures as guilty.

“I, erm,” he paused, composing himself, “I suppose we should get started.”

Albus grinned.

~

Rose walked at a slow pace down the hill, trying her best to look like she wasn’t a mixture of nerves, excitement, and anxiety after an almost sleepless night.

Jamie had sent a third year girl to her room with a note addressed to her in admittedly quite nice handwriting. It hadn’t been long, just seven words, but it had sent an electric tingle through her body when she read it.

Meet me (our spot) before train. Jamie.

At first, she had puzzled. She had puzzled over where “their spot” was. She had puzzled over what Jamie was planning on telling her before the train left. She had puzzled over whether or not she should even go. And after a night spent almost exclusively puzzling, she had gotten up, dressed, and let her heart guide her toward the Quidditch pitch.

She knew why she had ended whatever they had the first time. Pride. She was too proud to admit she liked someone “below” the standard she had always held herself at. But if the idea of a “standard” made to keep her happy was keeping her from happiness, then wasn’t it, in itself, futile? Wasn’t it a waste of her time?

Short answer: yes. It was a complete waste of her time. And that was the exact reason she found herself blowing air onto her freezing hands in the stands of the Quidditch pitch, waiting for her ironically underdressed Prince Charming.

“You came!”

She whirled around. Jamie, as expected in jeans and a coat, looked remarkably surprised to see her considering he’d invited her there in the first place. He reddened upon observation. “I didn’t…I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Here I am,” she smiled.

“Okay, so,” he moved closer, biting his lip and nodding to himself, “I just wanted to make sure things were okay with us. It’s been a bit awkward since…well, you know. I just liked being friends with you and didn’t want it to stop.”

Rose collected her thoughts. “Friends?”

He opened his mouth a little, his brow furrowing. “Yes. Is it surprising to you that I want to be friends?”

“To be perfectly frank, yes. In fact, I was half hoping you’d called me out here to ask me out.”

Jamie’s mouth fell entirely open, and Rose felt the urge to do the same.  _ Where  _ was this honesty coming from? And where had she hidden it, and this burst of courage, for the last fifteen years?

“Is that…is that what you want?” He asked incredulously.

“If it was,” she said slowly, “would it be what you wanted to?”

He let out a small surprised laugh, like he’d been saving it up. “Merlin, I suppose it would.”

“Well,” she spoke, choosing each of her following words very carefully, “you’d better get on with it then.”

Jamie looked as shocked as she felt. His face was several shades redder than it had been when he arrived, and it was almost obvious that his brain was working quite a bit slower than usual. Which sent a strange burst of excitement through Rose.

“Rose,” he said finally, “would you, perhaps, fancy going out on a date with me?”

“That would be lovely,” she said, standing up and dusting off the seat of her pants, “write me over the break, Jamie, I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

~

Albus and Scorpius hurried down the corridor of the train, searching for an empty compartment and laughing at something neither of them could quite remember. Each train car seemed fuller than the last, and the choices were starting to look bleak as they entered the last one. 

“Aha!” Albus grinned, peering into the first one, “empty!”

He grabbed Scorpius by the cuff of his shirt and pulled him in, slamming the compartment door shut and drawing the blinds. He turned back to face him, something in his eyes a little darker. Scorpius raised a brow, teetering on the verge of a sarcastic comment. Before he could speak, though, Albus strode forward, half pushed him up against the window, and kissed him. Hard.

Scorpius drew in a sharp breath, slightly alarmed at the urgency Albus was showing.  _ This  _ was new. There had never been this much…desperation in the way Albus kissed him. It was a little more intense than he had initially anticipated, but (to his complete and utter surprise) Scorpius sort of liked it.

He tested the waters, kissing back with a fraction of the fervor the other boy exhibited. Albus’s response was (quite obviously) positive, and Scorpius found himself blushing despite the lack of an audience. He twisted his fingers through Albus’s belt loops and pulled him slightly closer as the other boy’s hands travelled into his hair.

_ Bang! _

“Oh,  _ Merlin. _ ”

Albus and Scorpius sprung apart, away from the wall. Scorpius twisted to get a look at who had just burst into their compartment entirely unannounced. His face flushed, and his stomach did a loop-de-loop.

Rose Granger-Weasley, her mouth ajar, standing in the wide open doorframe. She looked just as impeccable as ever, with the exception of the absolutely dumbfounded expression stretched across her face.

“Rose—” Albus said, looking a little like he was about to throw up.

“Stop,” Rose said, holding up a hand, “I don’t…oh,  _ blimey _ . You bastards.”

Scorpius felt something lurch inside him. This had crossed his mind many a time in the last few weeks. Not everyone would be accepting of he and Albus, and he knew that. But somehow he had allowed his feelings to get the better of him. And yet, despite himself, he was a little angry. How could Rose stand there and judge them? After she’d kissed Jamie Finch-Fletchley! He had half a mind to say something right there and then, but before he could, she cut him off.

“I owe James fifteen galleons now, so thanks for that.”

Albus cocked his head, looking as confused as Scorpius felt.

“Although I suppose I don’t have to tell him…” Rose trailed off, sighing and looking back up at the other two astounded people standing in the compartment. “Merlin, don’t look so surprised,” she laughed, “you two haven’t exactly been subtle for the last five years.”

Realization dawned over both boys in the same moment. Rose wasn’t angry, or disgusted, or in despair. She was just…surprised. Which, in all fairness, was quite reasonable given that she’d just walked in on her cousin kissing his best friend quite fervently.

“How long has this been going on, then?” She continued, settling into acceptance and obviously awaiting a response.

“I suppose, erm, a week?” Albus said quickly.

“A  _ week _ ?” Rose cried, “wow, I was expecting at least a year.”

Neither Scorpius nor Albus responded to this, both busy analyzing their behavior in the last year. Rose looked on expectantly, sighing when she realized she was going to have to do all the heavy lifting in the conversation.

“Anyway, I just came to see whether or not you got a letter about Christmas dinner. But I suppose it can wait until the platform. I’ll, erm…leave you to it.” She turned on her heel, smiling at her own cleverness.

“Wait!” Albus squeaked, “you won’t…you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

Rose tossed them a grin as she swung out the compartment door, “don’t worry, you two. My lips are sealed!” And then she (and her suspiciously good mood) were gone.

There was a moment before either of them spoke. And then…

“You didn’t  _ lock the door _ ?” Scorpius turned on Albus, fuming.

“Heat of the moment!” Albus defended, his voice a little shrill and his cheeks still pink, “I forgot! Hex me!”

“Careful, Potter, I just might.”

Albus chuckled, rolling his eyes, “is that a threat? Because it was really pitiful, Scorp, I’ve got to tell you.”

“Piss off, you’re just acting haughty because you don’t want to admit I’d kick your ass in a duel!” Scorpius shot back, trying his best to keep the smile off his face.

“You’re probably right,” Albus admitted, “I’m rubbish at spells.”

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” Scorpius winked.

“I’ll take what I can get.” He sat down heavily, patting the seat next to him. “Sit down, then, long trip ahead of us.”

Scorpius sighed and moved toward the seat, pausing just before he sat down. He bit his lip, and after a moment turned and leaned toward the door. Reaching his hand out, he slipped the lock into place and then, wordlessly, sat down next to Albus.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I have no good excuse for why this took me a month to write (lol) I'm just quite tired and have a lot of schoolwork! Doing my best to make sure the next one does not take that long, hope you enjoy chapter 10! :)


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